


Fǫruneyti

by Evaldrynn



Series: Fǫruneyti [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Angst, Asgard, Character Development, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Like really slow, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Royalty, Slow Burn, Some still dont seem to realise it but, Teasing/flirting, This is the slowest of slow burns, but he acts like an arse sometimes, he's a bro, loki is also a good guy, prepare yourself, reader is female, there is sexual tension in almost every fucking chapter im not even kidding, there's gonna be gore at some point, thor is a good guy, warning for blood, warning for violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 80
Words: 210,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaldrynn/pseuds/Evaldrynn
Summary: AU set in Asgard.A story in which a herbalist makes a decision that will change her life forever, and in which a prince begins to realise that there might still be hope for him yet. A tale of danger, adventure, friendship, and, ultimately,love.Book I - finishedBook II - finishedBook III - ongoing





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy!

The wind made the trees bend and bow, the lightning illuminating their path through the early night. Though their scout did not want to admit it they had most definitely taken the wrong path at the last crossing. The horses were uneasy, whinnying and neighing with every clap of thunder that seemed to shake the earth, and the soldiers were not much better off – something was wrong. Their eyes restlessly scanned the pitch black forest around them with their hands clasped around the reins or resting on the swords hanging from their hips, their instincts telling them to turn back; yet there was only one who noticed the movement in the shadows. 

“Thor.” 

The golden-haired man followed his brother's glance and peered between the trees, until he spotted movement as well. It was their task to guide their men to safety, yet the odds were not in their favour. There was no option but to fight. 

“We're under attack!” 

An arrow shot past and hit one of the guards in the shoulder, the toxins immediately finding their way into his systems. The howling wind stifled the cries of men who met a similar fate as their friends slashed at the invisible enemy and tried not to get thrown off their stallions; but it was of no use – they were losing. 

Suddenly a bright light washed over them, the source not lightning but magic; which was enough to blind the attackers and to return the advantage to the soldiers - who made good use of it. Swords slashed through enemy flesh and dyed the road a deep crimson red, lifeless bodies falling to the ground only to be trampled underneath rearing horses, and the soldiers regained their hope.

Until it went dark again. 

“Loki, are you all right?” Thor's loud voice boomed through the darkness, but no answer came. “ _Loki!_ ” 

The light returned - weaker this time - and his eyes quickly found his brother still atop his horse, yet gravely injured. Still his face showed no signs of pain and his voice did not quiver once as he roared the words over the sound of the pouring rain. 

“We cannot win this fight!” He lifted his hand, slender fingers aimed at the white-flashing sky. “Head east!”

A wall of green fire erupted from the ground which startled the attackers, and which gave the soldiers the chance to make their escape. 

__

 

It had been quiet today, partly due to the storm; and you used the spare time to clean the place up a bit. Books on herbs and weeds were put back on the correct shelves, the two oaken tables were scrubbed until they were devoid of any dust or dirt, the dark wooden floorboards were swept spotless, and empty bottles were cleaned and put away in the right places so that they were ready to use the next time you needed them.  
You took a moment to rest, leaning down on the counter and appreciating the shop. You had been running it for a couple of years now and, to your delight, the popularity had grown exponentially since the owners had allowed you to take over – many even recognised you on the streets, whether they visited regularly or not. You took their compliments and stories of complication-less healing to heart, and you were always glad to hear how they liked the new look of the building.

After the renovations it was now possible for customers to take a seat on one of the benches placed against the wall, accompanied by the two knee-high tables that were adorned with one potted plant each, and you had been able to increase the space for storage by building cabinets and drawers into the counter. In addition there were the bookcases that lined the wall behind you, where you had neatly arranged the books according to their contents and filled other shelves with jars that contained plants, berries, herbs or spices – all with different properties that you knew by heart. Underneath the shelves were drawers of different sizes that could be locked, and which contained medicinal pills, salves, potions, or powders that were ready to use. You grew some herbs in the sills of the arched windows and on every other unoccupied surface, the flowers and healthy greens bringing colour and liveliness to the room and filling the air with a gentle aroma.  
The stairs in the back twisted to the second floor, where three bedrooms were situated, and in the wall underneath it was a door that led to the dormitory; which was filled with beds for those who needed to be tended to for a longer period of time and stools for those who came to visit them.  
The entrance to the kitchen had been moved, simply by turning the old one into a wall and creating a new door in between two of the bookcases behind the counter, as there had been incidents where visitors had tried to cook something for their bed-bound family members and had nearly set the place on fire. 

Sadly, not all villagers of Blacktree had been blessed with intelligence. 

You liked living here, though. The surrounding mountains offered safety from ongoing wars or conquering parties, and the bears and wolves in the area scared off any groups of bandits or raiders. The woods were rich in ingredients for your medicinal practices and cooking experiments, the lake nearby supplied the village with fish, and there were enough herds of deer to feed an entire country if one were to hunt them all. The people here, though not the smartest, were kind at heart, always ready to help each other out and to support each other when the winter had been harsh again or when the crops had withered. 

While the rain kept streaming down the windows you checked up on what you had in stock and made a list. The aroma of ink, old books, plants, and parchment scented the room and soothed your being as you filled a nearly empty jar with some fresh mirrinos leaves, until a loud clap of thunder surprised you and made your fingers falter for a moment, allowing the bottle to slip from your grasp and to smash into pieces.  
This weather wasn't unusual during this time of year. The water poured down mercilessly from the heavens and the flashes of light illuminated the sky for only a fraction of a second, before letting the world fall into darkness again and leaving only a moment of sound to acknowledge it had ever happened. It had its own charm, in a way, and you knew it couldn't do harm, yet the loudest bangs still made you jump sometimes. 

After cleaning up the shards you were ready to throw yourself onto your next task of preparing some powders and potions that were sold nearly every day, when suddenly the door swung open and a flurry of men stormed in.

“We were attacked-” 

But you paid no attention to the man clad in red and gold. Your eyes immediately found the man in green and black instead, who was being supported on both sides, and judging from his wounds you knew you had to act fast. 

“Lay him on the table. You,” you made eye contact with one of the men clothed like a soldier, “get me that bottle of alcohol on the shelf in the back, second from the top. You, help him out of his armour, I need his wounds to be fully exposed.”  
You grabbed a clean rag from one of the nearest cabinets, in the meanwhile addressing the redgolden man. “You're in charge, right? Post two of your least injured men outside this door and two more on the opposite side of the street, a few houses apart from each other and hidden but not out of sight. Fasten the horses to the poles outside and close the door afterwards, but do not barricade it.” 

He nodded firmly and turned to his men. “Do as she says!” 

You turned back to the man laying on your table and for only a fraction of a second regretted putting him there, as the blood running down his sides would inevitably stain the beautiful wood. However the thought left as quickly as it had come when you took the bottle of alcohol from one of the men and knelt down to get to work. After wiping away the blood with the rag you lay your hand on the flesh next to the deepest wound, noticing how unusually cold it was, and poured the liquid into the cut to disinfect it – all while you kept yelling commands. 

“Someone get me the third jar on the top left shelf behind the counter, now. You, hold down his shoulders. I'm trying not to hurt him but I cannot control everything, and I do not want to have him making it worse by moving.” 

You quickly traded the rag and alcohol for the jar, commanding the soldier to keep it close, and popped open the lid. You gave it a whiff just to make sure it was the right stuff; then, while holding the edges of the wound apart with the thumb and fingers of one hand, gently put it in with the other. The ointment would protect from infections, fasten the healing process, and block the blood flow as well – therefore greatly decreasing the risk of bleeding to death if the wound opened up again. It did not keep the wound completely closed however, and without stitches it was likely to leave a massive scar. 

“Get me the black pouch from the shallowest drawer underneath the counter.” 

Within seconds the small pouch was offered to you and you traded it for the salve, once again demanding it to be within reach, before quickly pulling the chords loose and taking out the set of needles and threads. You carefully but swiftly sewed the sides together, finishing with a tiny knot and a snip of the small scissors, and quickly repeated the whole process with the other two wounds as well. Once that was done you took out a large roll of linen bandaging and, with some help from the two closest men, wrapped it around blackgreen's midsection. 

Finally, the situation was under control. 

The last step was to stand up and glance at your work, but to do so you needed to take your hand off of his abdomen – and the moment you did he let out a loud hiss in pain. You hoped it wouldn't give you away but luckily the others seemed to think nothing of it, and you let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“I take it he will be all right?” Redgold met your gaze, the worry apparent in his eyes, but it quickly diminished when you sent him a warm and reassuring smile. 

“He will be fine, granted he rests properly.” You glanced around, noticing how most men had scrapes and bruises, before returning your gaze to his again. “Were you not hurt?” 

“Only a couple of superficial cuts.” 

“Those can get infected as well. Show me, please.” 

He rolled up his sleeves, and without ado you disinfected and bandaged his injuries. “I will take care of the others. Please take a seat and rest, you and your men are welcome to stay the night. We have plenty of beds and enough food for you to be comfortable here.” 

He nodded and sat himself down on the bench beside the table Blackgreen was laying on. While tending to the soldiers you cast a glance his way every now and then, but his empty stare didn't change. His eyes were focused beyond this realm. 

 

All injuries had been treated and you were just putting everything back where it belonged when the two owners of the shop came halfway down the stairs, their faces contorted in confusion and shock. 

“What in the name of Yggdrasil is going on?” 

Medhea let her eyes move over the man-filled room. She was a sturdy woman, visibly growing older, but her eyes stood bright and lively still and her voice could carry for miles if she wanted it to. She always tried to keep her reputation of being austere high, now being no exception with her trademark glare that, if looks could kill, would have taken many lives; but those who knew her well enough knew she was one of the most motherly and warm women Blacktree had to offer. Not that she wasn't strong – quite the opposite. She could stop a brawl with one of those deadly glares, or beat a man to pulp with her bare hands if she needed to. She had taught you how to defend yourself and how to fight back, and she was not to be messed with. 

Next to her stood her husband, Illasias, who was of the softer kind. He knew the landscape like the back of his hand and had taught you everything there was to know; about the soils and the rocks, the trees and the plants, the animals – everything. He was very respected amongst the people, mainly for his knowledge but also for his wisdom, and he wore time well; his curly hair retaining the chestnut brown it had always had and his skin staying the healthy tan the sun had granted him, and he had not weakened in body nor mind. Where Medhea was like a mother to you, he was like a father, and you loved them both dearly. 

Sometimes, however, Illasias seemed to forget about the very wisdom he was so often praised for.

“Where were you attacked? It must have been quite the ride away; the dragon wouldn't have let enemy soldiers on these premises.” 

Your eyes widened a bit. “Illasias, we don't know who these men are.” 

But it was too late, as everyone was now looking at him with questions swirling in their eyes. It was Redgold who spoke first. 

“A dragon?” 

“It's an expression, a nickname. A group of men devoted themselves to protecting the town a few years ago, and their name is supposed to frighten off any ill-willing strangers from coming here.” You gave Illasias a warning glance, but were careful not to show Redgold or any of his soldiers. To them you smiled apologetically, and adeptly changed the subject. “Though now the matter has risen, I do need to ask you where you are from, and what you did to become a target.” 

“Ah yes, you must forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Thor, son of Odin, and the man on your table is my brother, Loki.” He smiled at you, seemingly waiting for some kind of predicted response, but when you just introduced yourself, Medhea, Illasias, and said nothing more, confusion crept into his eyes. “You do not know of us?” 

“I'm afraid not, my apologies. Our village does not have much contact with other towns or cities, apart from the occasional trade.” 

A groan coming from Blackgreen – whose name apparently was Loki – diverted everyone's attention to him. You noticed how he was trying to push himself into a sitting position, so you quickly made your way over to him and gently, but firmly, pushed him down again. “That table must not be comfortable, yet I must ask of you not to move.” You made eye contact with two men and nodded them over. “Could you please assist me in moving him to the dormitory?” 

After carefully lifting the man and carrying him to the nearest bed in the adjoining chamber you thanked the two who helped you and walked back to the doorway, from which you addressed the whole room. “There are plenty of beds, so feel free to rest if you wish.” And as you stepped aside to let the men through, you addressed Medhea and Illasias. “I will handle everything here, don't worry.” The look in your eyes told them that you were going to win information and let them know what you had found out later, the only thing you asked of them was to be patient and to trust you. And, without a second doubt, they nodded, and disappeared up the stairs again. 

Next, you walked up to Thor. “I need to know whether the ones who ambushed you would follow you here, and if they might attempt another attack.” 

He thought for a moment. “I do not believe they would dare to enter the village, but they could lay in wait deeper into the woods.” 

You hummed in acknowledgment, and spoke as you were thinking. “It might be best if two of your men kept watch, maybe let the least injured take shifts. I still need to take a look at the four who you've positioned outside... I would advise against continuing on your way tomorrow, seeing as your brother needs more time to heal.” You smiled and gave curt nod – more aimed towards yourself than him. “Now rest, I will prepare something to eat.” 

He answered your smile with a large one of his own. “Thank you for your kindness and hospitality; your quick thinking has saved Loki's life, and you will be compensated greatly for it. I cannot thank you enough.”

A compensation? You pushed it away. Though the shop could certainly use the money, it wasn't needed to keep on living as you did - if anything, the more money there was around here the more attractive it would become to raiders. Thor seemed rather wealthy, if his and his brother's apparel was anything to go by; which probably meant he had quite some power as well – and an alliance with someone powerful might be more useful than currency in the long run. 

“A compensation is not necessary. The only payment I need is a favour, should I ever need your help.” 

He looked surprised, then chuckled. “Quite all right.” And, after calling his men inside and sending out two others, he too disappeared into the dormitory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a dream hat threw me back into Loki hell (which I absolutely don't mind) and I decided to turn it into a fic, so in a couple of months time I wrote about 200 pages and hit the 100 000-words mark. I have been longing to post this online for quite some time now but I wanted to make sure I knew where I was going with this. I am so in love with Loki, with the characters I created and the story that I've written, and I really hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do!
> 
> I will try to upload one chapter every week.


	2. II

You searched the kitchen and got out the things you needed, stacking the counter with bowls, cutting boards, cutlery, and more. With so many mouths to feed you needed to step up your game. How many men were there, anyway? You hadn't consciously counted, as it all had happened too fast for you to pay attention to it, but now that things had calmed down you tried to see it all happen again in your head. There were Thor and Loki, who were in charge or at least of higher status than the rest; there had been four men outside, one had held Loki down, and two had handed you the things you had asked for – which made nine in total.  
A party of nine was quite strange, as most of the time the members were arranged according to a symmetrical structure that offered the ones in the middle the most protection. Usually that meant two to their sides, one in front, and one behind; with one further out of sight on either flank, of which the one ahead would function as a scout. Seeing as Thor and Loki were either quite rich or quite important – or both, as those two things often went hand in hand – it probably meant that they needed a larger party to protect them from bandits and such, or at least that they could afford a larger party in the first place. There was also the matter of where they were going to, and how long it would take to get there: if their trip was long and dangerous, they needed at least one or two healers and a few extra soldiers. 

You lighted the fire and hung the large, water-filled pot on the iron hook above it, before chopping up a whole lot of vegetables and adding them to it. Next was the meat and lastly the herbs, which both added to the flavour and sped up the healing process with their specific properties. 

No matter which path your mind took, it always ended up at the same conclusion: they had lost one or more in the attack. Even if they were on some kind of secret mission, which you doubted, or just travelling light or without concerns of being ambushed, nine was still an odd number that just wouldn't make sense in any kind of formation. Either that or they had picked someone up along the way, but that didn't seem very likely either. 

You tried to stir your thoughts away and to focus on the broth again. You were too curious for your own good - their business was none of your concern. Well, it slightly was, as you didn't want to allow some rogue group of people into the village and even patch them up while you were at it; but you thought of yourself as a good judge of character and Thor, though intimidating, had not seemed foulhearted.

You let the soup be, using the time it needed to simmer to prepare some extra salve for the men's wounds. The ingredients you needed for it were bountiful anyway, and you still had a rather large batch of everything stored away in the basement. Still, it was quite some extra work, and after a short while you already felt the strength in your muscles slowly seep away; mashing the berries and stirring the thick, light-green ointment was steadily growing harder and harder. You needed to stay awake, however. What if the shop got attacked? Or what if the soup boiled over?

When you had made enough for treating more than twenty life-threatening wounds, you decided it was time to check up on the resting ones - and their silence surprised you. Your previous interactions with soldiers, especially outsiders, had always been quite loud; but those who hadn't yet crawled underneath the covers were either silently conversing or staring into nothingness. You wondered if it was because of those they had lost. Outside the storm raged on, wind howling through the trees and rain streaming down the windows, casting a play of shadows through the room. The contrast was so strong that it almost felt like a dream, like a blurry memory that had faded over time. Thor came to stand next to you, looking out over his men. 

“Shouldn't you rest as well?”

“I will rest once my tasks are fulfilled. I am used to working long nights, worry not.” 

He huffed shortly, a smile on his face. “You remind me of my brother.” 

“Hardworking?” 

“Stubborn.” 

You both chuckled, and for a moment you found yourself wishing you had had a brother when you were younger - or a sister, for that matter. When running errands you often saw the baker's sons playing around with their tiny wooden swords, or the fisherman's twins climbing trees, while their laughter filled the air and their parents watched with their telltale gazes of love. You had never felt jealous, just a vague, almost gentle kind of sadness. 

Your eyes fell on the sleeping Loki. “I have always wanted a sibling. What's he like?” Thor hesitated, however, and you met his gaze. “It's okay if you don't want to tell me – I'm still a stranger, after all.” 

“It's not that...” He stopped for a moment, hesitation still in his eyes, “He's a good man at heart, but his actions often seem to prove the opposite. He's... secluded. He has never really opened up to anyone, which has kept people from understanding him. Most do not like him very much.” 

You scanned the face of the sleeping man. “How can they judge if they do not know him?” 

Thor sighed. “Loki has a hobby of getting into trouble and making the wrong decisions. Sometimes that is enough for one to judge.” 

“Then, for as long as you are here, I shall try not to,” you decided out loud, and smiled softly. Surely he couldn't be that bad?

He chuckled, and nodded. “I would appreciate that. You are a kind soul.” He shifted his weight onto his other leg, his glance growing determined and his smile widening. 

You frowned lightly. “What?” 

“You have proven yourself to be a good healer, and a saver of lives. You can act fast and think even faster, and you have shown that you can give orders and lead a group of men who you know nothing of, and who do not know anything about you either. You are kind, stubborn, and intelligent.” 

You felt like he was trying to get somewhere, or to prove a point, but you had no idea where or what. He wasn't courting you, the tone of his voice was too matter-of-fact, and, as far as you could tell, it was respect, not love, that moved his words. How were you to respond? Yet he continued before you could figure it out.

“As you know, we were attacked; and we lost quite a few men. One of them was our trusted healer.”

Ah, there was his point. 

“And you want me to replace him,” you finished.

“I know I might be asking too much, especially after you have served us so well already; but I care about my men and I do not want to lose anyone else. This was not the first attack, nor the first time we have lost members of our party, and it certainly won't be the last. We still have quite the ride to get to our destination over lands we know to be dangerous. Without a healer, we might not make it.”

You let your eyes wander from Thor to the men scattered around the room. You loved your life here, and the people of Blacktree were quite dependent on your medicine, but the realisation that all these soldiers might die if you didn't go with them... They had lives of their own; maybe wives or husbands, or maybe even children. How could you condemn a child to a parent-less youth? Besides, if anyone was able to protect every soul in this room, it was you – more so than Thor realised. But what if you failed? What if you weren't able to protect everyone, and saw those very men die in front of your eyes, just because you had been too weak or too slow? Or what if you lost your life yourself, and would never be able to see Medhea and Illasias again?  
You felt like your brain was about to explode, when suddenly the gentle pressure of a hand on your shoulder soothed your thoughts. 

“Remember that you are not required to travel with us for the whole duration of our journey. Once we get to our final destination, which is about a three or four weeks away on horseback, we will be able to hire more men and a different healer. We will escort you back, and we will make sure nothing happens to you – you will be treated the same as Loki and I. If you then decide to return to your village, we will continue on without you.” He smiled warmly, his eyes patient. “I do not need an immediate answer. Give it some thought, but I must ask of you to take the lives of my men into consideration.”

You nodded, and he retracted his hand. 

“I will think about it.”

 

The storm had ceased overnight, and the skies were calm again. Slowly the sun rose above the trees, its beams of light filtering through the arched windows, and you had finally succeeded in getting the bloodstains out of the oaken table. Your body had stopped begging for sleep and understood that rest would come later, so the sleepiness had disappeared, and with the red rag in your hand you made your way to the kitchen to have another serving of broth. It was then that you noticed you had forgotten to take your bowl and spoon with you. You turned around – and muffled your yelp. 

“You used magic.” 

“You should still be resting!” You rushed over to the man casually leaning against the door frame, red blotches on the white bandaging around his abdomen, but the look in his eyes made you stop in your tracks. “Please, sir Loki, return to the dormitory. I will bring you something to eat.” 

But he gracefully stood to his feet as if he had never been wounded, and strode over to you until he was only inches away. “How dare you address me like that, village girl.” His voice had turned into a hiss, and a shiver ran down your spine. 

No judging, give him a chance, but don't let him step on you. You rose your chin and met his gaze without fear, but kept your voice as polite as possible. “Then correct me, sir. What should I address you as?” 

A tiny smirk played on his lips. “That would be _'prince'_.”

You blinked. Was he being serious or was he just screwing with you? You knew nothing about them, and they did wear particularly rich clothing, but a prince? It might explain why they were attacked, however, and slowly, as you started to believe him, dread settled in your stomach. You had spoken to Thor in a way that was rather amiable, and calling a prince 'sir' must be quite an insult now that you thought about it. You had way too little experience with people of higher status to know what to do in situations like this. Should you curtsy and apologise, or fall to your knees and beg for mercy? Surely it was not that big of a deal, right? However you realised that, for them, ruining this village and the lives of the people in it would be as easy as snapping one's fingers. You did save his life, but maybe it was better to be safe than sorry - and so you apologised. 

“My apologies, prince Loki. But please, return to the dormitory. I will warm up the broth and inspect your wounds.” 

You hoped that it would be enough and that he would do as you had asked, but instead of turning around and walking away he set a step forward, and another, forcing you to take steps back. The moment your back hit the kitchen counter you knew that there was no escape – but you had trained for this. If he tried anything, like that soldier once, he would regret it for years to come. 

His green-blue eyes pierced yours with an intensity that was almost violating, and he chuckled darkly. “A country girl commanding a prince? I do not know if I should admire your courage or loathe your stupidity.” 

For a moment you were baffled. This man was so much different from prince Thor, how was it possible that they were brothers? But you had promised the golden-haired man that you wouldn't judge, and so, even though every part of your being wanted to tell him to get eaten by wolves, you took a deep breath and washed your prejudices away. 

“A healer commanding a patient who would have died without her help. I kindly ask of you to sit down and take off your bandaging before you rip open my work and get an infection.” 

You knew your reply had been too witty, but in all honesty you didn't quite care as much as you probably should have. Even though he was a prince you would never let yourself be treated like dirt. The very least you could expect from someone whose life you had saved was a tiny bit of respect, or at least some obedience, as you had proven to deserve it. So you stepped forward, pleased to see him take a step back, and turned to walk to the nearest chair – until he caught your wrist. 

There hadn't been many instances in your life where you had known that, if the situation escalated, it might not end up in your favor. You knew you would always win the fight against woman or man, healer or soldier, if only you were prepared to expose your secrets; but this time was different – this time you knew that the odds were equally stacked against both sides, maybe even in his favour. The swirling greens and blues of his eyes held so much more than one would think at first sight, so many secrets that seemed to whisper of unimaginable power, and there was some kind of realisation in his glance too – as this was exactly what he noticed in your eyes as well. Suddenly you could feel the magic in the cool hand around your wrist, how it swirled invisibly, and how your own responded like two opposite poles of a magnet would – pulling it closer, connecting, trying to merge. 

“You possess magic,” you stated too dryly for the strange situation, eyes fixed on his but mind focused on the almost pleasant yet weirdly intimate feeling of his magic intertwining with yours. 

He kept your gaze too, eyes switching between yours as if he was searching for something, or analysing them. But the words he said were not the ones you had expected.

“What are you?” 

Your heart stopped for a moment, but you responded quickly nevertheless. “Just a village girl.” Gently you lay your free hand on his, giving it a soft squeeze. “I need to take a look at your wounds.” 

To your surprise he let go, studied your eyes for another few moments, before striding over to the chair next to the fire and sitting himself down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I couldn't wait, I really want to get this fic online haha  
> I think I'll be uploading a new chapter every three or four days! 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed it!


	3. III

After handing the prince a bowl of soup you gathered your things and neatly arranged them on the side table, before kneeling down in front of the raven-haired man and carefully removing the bandaging. Your stitching was still intact, and when you lay your hand on the skin above the largest wound you were glad to notice it hadn't risen in temperature; but he was still cooler than any healthy person should be. You didn't think the sword had been poisoned, as you knew of no poison that took away heat instead of causing it; but then again, you had only had access to a limited amount of books and ingredients – which also meant that, if he truly had been poisoned, you had no idea what to do about it. 

“You don't feel nauseous, or a strange tingling sensation in any part of your body? Are you feeling particularly tired?” You gingerly washed the dried blood off of his abdomen. 

“The blade wasn't poisoned.” 

You glanced up and met his gaze, not able to guess what he was thinking or feeling. It was as if this man had barricaded himself from the world, and you wondered what had made him this way – but realised that this was not the time to think about that and focused on the matter at hand again. 

“Good.” 

You didn't try to hide the fact that you were healing him with magic this time and softly pressed both your hands to the afflicted flesh, but his fingers found your wrist again – however more gentle this time. 

“Spare your energy.” 

Though his tone was harsh the gesture was kind, and you were even more confused than you had been before. You began to suspect that his brother had been right and that prince Loki was not as bad as he made himself look, but then why was he so set on keeping up a bad reputation? Did he want people to be afraid of him? Because if you hadn't been who you were, which was pretty much fearless, you wouldn't have dared to sit this close to him. 

He let go of your wrist and continued on working down the broth, allowing you to apply the salve. Next was the fresh bandaging, but you surprised yourself by feeling a bit awkward about it. You had bandaged many men before; so what was different now? Was it fear after all? You pushed the thought away, but before you could get to work, prince Loki spoke with a smirk. 

“Afraid to come any closer?” 

Ah, great, he had noticed your reluctance. You mentally slapped yourself for allowing that to happen. Luckily witty responses were a well-trained hobby of yours, and so you had no difficulty with casually deflecting his question. 

“Do you want me to come closer that badly?” 

You couldn't help a smirk of your own and even dared to shoot him a mischievous glance. You wrapped the linen around his midsection, trying to ignore how close your face got to his chest every time you had to reach around his back, and fixed it in place. “All done. Now rest at least another day before you can even think about riding a horse again.” 

He elegantly stood and strode off again like true royalty, and as you watched him go you realised you hadn't checked their horses for wounds yet. 

 

You stepped outside and closed the door behind you, only to turn around and to slam into a man's chest. Apparently chests were your enemy of the day. 

“I apologise, I didn't see you – oh hey Audun.” 

Audun took a step back, hands on your shoulders, and grinned. “I know you're a bit of a daydreamer, but I called your name twice before you decided to smack your face against my sternum. What's up with the guards?” 

You brushed his hands off your shoulders with a friendly smirk on your face. “We got visitors last night who were attacked in the woods, and some of them were pretty badly injured. The guards are here for if they try and attack again.” 

“So you stayed up all night to tend to their injuries without taking a moment to rest. Typical.” He let out a sigh, but smiled. “I wondered why you didn't come to practice this morning. You look like shit.” 

“Thanks.” You rolled your eyes and turned to inspect the first horse. 

“So who are they? They've got some fancy beasts.” He nodded to a horse as black as a starless night and took a step towards it, but the stallion immediately threw him a glare that was a warning on its own. 

“Audun-” 

“It's fine. Who's a pretty horse? Who's a pretty horse?” He set another step closer and the creature neighed, trying to pull itself free from the pole it had been secured to. Audun quickly backed off. “All right, not so fancy a beast, then.” 

You let out a sigh. “Do me a favor and check the brown horses at the back for any injuries, I'll take care of this one. Don't get yourself kicked in the stomach.” 

“You sure you want to do this one? You could get badly injured.” 

“Not if you don't approach it like an idiot.” You shot him an accusing look, knowing he wouldn't take it as an insult, and rolled your eyes at the grin you got in return. 

After finishing inspecting the beautiful white horse, which stood calm and patient and lifted its leg when you requested it to, you glanced at the black one. It was truly gorgeous, with long manes and intelligent eyes, and you immediately knew to whom it belonged – you could see the stubbornness of its owner reflected in its gaze. Not knowing you were being watched from the windows by at least five men, you bowed lightly for the royal steed and introduced yourself. 

“I am going to check for injuries, if you will allow me to, so I can heal them. I will untie the rope, but I need you to stand still. Will you let me step closer?” 

You waited for a moment, not sure if this was going to work, but soon the horse lowered its head in what almost seemed like a bow. Glad that the creature had accepted your presence you smiled and slowly extended you hand, daring to set a step closer. You had now noticed the men growing more worried behind the windows, but you paid them no attention and instead focused on the horse as you set another step, and then waited – until it softly brushed its nose against the palm of your hand. It was safe to continue. You gingerly brushed your fingers over its muzzle and forehead, eyes scanning for cuts or scrapes, and set another step to let your hand move down its neck. The horse kept still, its ears letting you know you were still welcome as you checked its whole body, and when you were done you gave its neck another rub and its flank a soft pat before tying the creature to the pole again. 

“Thank you.” 

One glance directly aimed at the men and their eyes grew wide before they quickly scurried back to the dormitory. The stallion most likely had a reputation of being rather wild, and you appreciated the soldiers' concerns, but it definitely felt good to be able to do something that so many men had probably failed to do; especially because you didn't have as much experience with horses as they had.  
So with newfound confidence you inspected the other ones until you met Audun half way again. 

“I never know how you do it.” 

“Instinct, I guess.” You gave the last horse a pat. “All the other ones were uninjured as well?” 

“There's one who has a small cut on its side, probably from like an arrow or something, but nothing major.” He followed you to the shed between the trees. “No one has forgotten the wolf incident, you know. They still talk about it. You're pretty much a Blacktree legend.” 

“That wolf was young and had lost its pack. The situation would have been completely different if there had been more waiting in the woods.” You filled six buckets with oats and hung three on either of your arms, afterwards nodding towards four more. “Can you take those?” 

While putting one in front of every horse, you tried to decide whether to tell him about prince Thor's offer or not. He was your friend, and his opinion might help you figure out your answer, but you already knew what he was going to say. Weren't we all selfish when it came to family and friends? Yet he had the right to know. Besides, it wouldn't be very kind to disappear without a warning – if you left at all. 

“Hey, Audun?” 

“Hm?” 

You absently stroked the soft forehead of the black stallion. “Their healer got killed in the attack. They eh... They want me to take their place.” 

“You're leaving?” He sounded so shocked that your heart skipped a beat because of it. “For how long?”

“Well, I have not accepted their offer yet. I am not sure if I want to leave, but then again, I am not sure if staying will do me any good either.” 

He walked over to you, eyes still wide in disbelief. “You can't just leave Blacktree – think of all the people who need the stuff that you make!” 

“Everything that I know I have either been taught by Med and Illas or have taught them in turn. I know everything they know, but they also know everything I know. They would simply take over the shop again. Besides, it's not forever. Just a couple of months, I think. I will come back.” 

“...But what if you don't?” His voice sounded so hurt, so afraid, and the moment you looked him in his eyes you needed to avert your own again. 

“You've taught me how to fight, both with swords and with my bare hands, and mom has taught me some tricks as well. Besides, they will protect me.” 

“Yeah, like they protected their other healer. Right.” He huffed, averting his gaze. 

“I will be careful,” you tried pleadingly, but it didn't calm his anger. 

“It sounds like you've already made up your mind; I don't think my opinion will change anything. When are you leaving?” 

You stayed silent for a moment. You had already made up your mind, hadn't you? And it wasn't just because of the soldiers lives at risk – a large part of you craved adventure, craved a different scenery. There were other books out there to read, other things to learn about medicine and about magic, other cultures to be discovered and other cities to be seen. There was a whole world out there still for you to discover. Blacktree was peaceful, truly, but it was also kind of... boring, in the end. 

“I think they will be healed enough by the end of tomorrow.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear. 

The deafening bang of a bucket being kicked and horses whinnying in response made you jump, but you were afraid to look him in his eyes and to see the disappointment. Your friendship would never be the same, whether you left or not, but somehow that made it easier for you. 

You had decided. 

“Who will speak for the dragon, then? No one dares to go up there but you, and I bet you're the only one who can understand it.” 

You... you had completely forgotten about the dragon. If you left - no. No, it would be fine. “Someone else will have to gather their courage and talk to it. I will only be gone for two or three months, maybe four, surely you can survive for that long without talking to a creature that never shows itself.” You let out a soft sigh. “I will go tell it of my departure, and ask of it to accept another orator until I've returned.” 

He didn't respond, but instead stared at you with a gaze that could be read without thinking twice about it. Frustration, anger, disappointment, sadness. He would survive, you were sure of it. But then his expression softened to a soul-ripping openness that could not be described by words. 

“Then what about me?” 

You didn't understand. 

“...What do you mean?” 

“I love you, ____. I've loved you for years-” He threw his hands up in the air. “Of course I've loved you! What am I to do when you don't come back? How am I to move on? How am I to continue my life like nothing happened, like the most important person in it hasn't just been taken away from me? If you were to stay for one reason, let it be me. Stay. Just for me.” Where he had been yelling and making large gestures with his arms as if the world was falling apart, he was now pleading, begging for you to stay, because he loved you. 

But you just – how could you understand? How could you... how? To you he was a friend, a brother, a member of your own wolf pack. It had always been the two of you against the rest of the world, against the mountains, against the perils of the night – but as friends, as family, and never as lovers. Never as that. How could you understand? How could you possibly understand? You just held his gaze with wide open eyes and the taste of salty water on your lips. What were you to say?

After another moment of silence and then, in those dark brown eyes, you could see his heart break. “You don't love me back.” He huffed again. “You never loved me, did you? No.” He laughed mirthlessly. “No, you never did.” 

He turned around and walked away and you didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, you didn't know- “Audun, I- please -” 

He stopped, turning back, but you couldn't stand the expression on his face. “What, ____? What? I know you don't love me - I see it now. Go travel with them, go see the world. But if you're not back in three months I will come look for you. I will make sure you are all right. Because I love you, ____. Maybe you don't reciprocate, but I love you. I'll come look for you and make sure that nothing has happened and that you are safe.” 

“Audun-” 

But he wasn't going to turn around this time. Your cheeks started itching and you wiped the silent tears away even though they kept coming. This was the end of your friendship, for good. Years and years of memories, of climbing trees and picking herbs, of Audun's father teaching the two of you how to shoot with bow and arrow and of the morning training sessions, all of that had changed in only a few seconds time. All smiles he had given you, how many had been out of love? All the kind things he had said, how many words had been to flirt? 

You rested your forehead against that of the horse coloured like the night, gently keeping hold of its head as you closed your eyes and allowed the loss to hurt. The stallion nudged you, lifted his head to reach for your ear, and you giggled weakly as you gingerly kept the stallion from grabbing it and set a step closer to wrap your arms around its neck, mumbling a soft 'thank you'. 

Everything would be all right. Everything would be all right.

 

Everything would be all right.


	4. IV

After you had gotten yourself back under control again you wiped your arm across your face for the last time and straightened your shoulders. You would think about this later; for now there were more important things at hand. You had made your decision and you would tell prince Thor, but not before explaining everything that had happened to Illasias and Medhea.

You collected the empty buckets and brought them back to the shed before moving the horses to the water trough and giving the pump a few swings, until there was enough for them to drink. Your last task was thereby done, the redness of your eyes had lessened, and you dared to go back inside again. It wasn't that you didn't want to show weakness to the princes' men, as the two guards outside had seen it all happen and would probably tell the others, but you didn't want to worry those who you had come to see as your parents – though you feared their sadness at hearing of your departure. 

Still, your decision was definite. 

You entered the shop and responded to the soldier's worried looks with a reassuring smile before quickly disappearing up the stairs. After a knock and softly uttered permission from the other side of the door, you entered.

Medhea stood and met you halfway, followed by her husband. “Have you been able to find out who they are?” 

“The two clad in fancy clothes claim to be princes, though I do not know of what or of where, and the others are the members of their party. I trust them; though prince Loki, the one in green and black, possesses magic.” 

“A master of the arcane arts? How unusual... Does he know about you?” Illasias did not hide his worry, which only grew when you nodded. 

“He knows. I think he noticed I was suppressing his pain and healing his wounds while tending to them, as there could not have been any other occasion for him to notice, but I was being careful like always.”

“He must be quite powerful, then,” he responded thoughtfully. 

You let a tiny smirk pull up the corners of your lips. “Apparently not strong enough to keep himself from being cut three times. Quite the paradox.” 

“He did manage to keep himself from bleeding to death before they arrived here, however. We do not know how far they have ridden.” 

You nodded. “But for now I trust him not to use his magic against us, or to spread the word about mine.” You fumbled with your hands, unsure how to bring up the subject. “There is... something else, that I need to tell you about.” They nodded, waiting patiently for you to continue. “In the attack they lost their healer, and they want me to take their place for the rest of their journey. I have decided to take their offer.” 

While Medhea was stunned into silence, Illasias responded. “How long will you be gone?” 

“About two or three months, I think. Maybe a bit longer. They will protect me and treat me like the brothers in trade for my healing services.”

Medhea's eyes widened. “Wait. Those two men said they were princes, correct?” You nodded. “One wears red and gold, the other wears green? And you are sure they are brothers?” You nodded again, a frown forming on your face. “Was their last name Odinson?” 

Odinson, Son of Odin. You blinked. “How did you know?”

“Those two must be the Princes of Asgard.” As your frown didn't disappear, she continued. “Blacktree is situated between two empires, Asgard and Yllgard, of which Asgard is by far the largest and most prosperous of the two - that's why it may bear the name of the realm we live in. There are other smaller empires as well, but I do not know the names of those.” 

You were silent for a moment, not sure how you could use this information. Illasias knew what his wife was playing at, however, and explained with a grin. “If you were to marry one of the princes, you could live in luxury for the rest of your life.” 

Now you were just dumbstruck, and when you found your voice again you could only respond on an almost indignant tone. “I have no need of luxury in my life and I have no intention of marrying anytime soon. I appreciate the two of you looking out for me, but I will be fine without expensive clothing and diamonds around my neck.” 

Medhea smiled and moved her calloused fingertips through your hair. “I know, I know. I'm sorry for suggesting it, but it is just that I would love to be there at the day of your wedding before the time catches up on me. Even though you are not my child by blood, you are mine still, and all I wish for you is to be happy.” 

“I think this change of scenery will make me happy, mom. I know it will. There is so much for me to see out there; and I might be able to get my hands on some herbs I have never worked with before. I could return with so many new recipes, think about it- I might even be able to cure Gawir's limp, or Yzra's lung problems!”

Illasias chuckled. “Your eyes are sparkling.” 

Medhea nodded, a large smile on her face. “I'm proud of you, ____. Go out into the world and discover all there is to be discovered, learn all there is to know, and then return to tell us all about it, okay?” You nodded too, and she enveloped you in a hug. “We love you more than anything else in this world, don't forget that. Even if we're apart, we will always be with you.” 

“I'm only leaving in a day or so,” you mumbled against her shoulder as you tried to hold back the tears again. 

“I know, and I am going to say it all over again when that time comes around.” 

Illasias laughed softy. “Wife dearest, will you allow me to hug our daughter as well? It feels a bit like you are trying to keep her trapped forever in that embrace of yours.” 

And when one pair of arms retracted, another pair wrapped itself around you. “I'm just as proud, if not prouder. Even if you find your place elsewhere in this realm, please do visit often, will you?” 

You chuckled, wiping away a droplet that had escaped the corner of your eye. “Of course I will. No matter what happens on my journey, whether good or bad, I will return.” 

 

You made your way downstairs again and easily found the golden-haired man, giving a short nod of your head in indication of a bow. “Prince Thor, I have reached my decision. I would like to travel with you, offering my services as a herbalist and healer in trade for your protection.” 

“Wonderful! But since when do you address me like that?” He glanced at prince Loki, who only smirked. 

“Your brother has informed me of your titles. I apologise for not using it before, sire.” You were unsure if that was the right thing to say, and when Loki chuckled you felt worse than simply awkward. 

Thor laughed as well, yet warmly. “There's no need to call me sire. Prince Thor or simply Thor will do, just like you can call my brother simply Loki.” He cast his brother a defiant glance, playful even, and the other answered with a slightly annoyed one - but he accepted the statement without objection. “You can take Hallr as your steed, he is the only horse without an owner that followed us here. You can trust its loyalty. ” 

That reminded you of something. “I... I have never ridden a horse before.” 

Thor seemed taken aback for a moment. “Never?” 

“The only people in the village with horses are the those who take our trading goods to the city, and they are very protective of them. They are expensive, after all.” 

He thought for a moment, then called forward one of his men. “Brant will teach you.” He gave the fellow a pat on his back. “Within a day you will be able to ride with us.”

You smiled, excitement softly beginning to boil within you. “Thank you, prince Thor. I suggest we start with the lessons as soon as possible; there are still some preparations I need to make before we leave, and judging from the healing process of your brother's wounds we will be able to do so by tomorrow evening.” Thor nodded, he and his men listening like you were something close to a royal advisor; and you couldn't help but feel empowered because of it. “Your attackers probably expect us to leave early in the morning and so we must not make any visible preparations until the time has come to depart. The night will give us an advantage – but there is a small problem: the white coat of your steed is easy to spot, even when darkness grants us cover.” 

He nodded again, but there was a thoughtful frown on his face. “I must admit that I do not know how to solve that.” 

“I might have an idea, but I will need some of your men to help me with it. The mountain slope behind the wheat fields is overgrown with nillaberries, of which the juice has a black colour and easily stains skin and clothes. We could use it to colour your horse's coat, but we would need quite a substantial amount of berries to do so, and I can't collect them all on my own.” 

“We will pick the berries so you can focus on your riding lessons. Tell us which way to head and it shall be done.” 

“Wait-” you rushed out of the room and searched for some bags, which you then returned with and lay on the table. “Take these. We need at least forty bags completely filled, if my estimations are correct, but the more we have the darker we will be able to stain it. I will empty the rain barrel outside to store the berries in.” 

And so, after you had told the men which way to go, the building grew empty within moments, and you and Brant left to saddle Hallr. 

 

“So... how do I get up?” You stared at the horse in front of you, suddenly very aware that you could just barely glance over its back – and only if you stood on your toes. It seemed cruel to just grab it by its manes or something, and you didn't think you could jump high enough to flop yourself over the saddle. 

“It's easier than you think. Put your left foot in the left stirrup, grab the saddle, and swing your right leg over its back.” Brant kept a firm hold of the reins but smiled reassuringly.

Easier said than done, you thought wistfully, but refueled your determination and gave it a try. The first time your hand slipped from the saddle and you were only just in time to grab it again before you back-flipped into the ground, the second time your leg didn't get high enough, but the third time you actually managed to get on top quite gracefully. A bright smile conquered your face within an instant and your excitement slipped into your voice as you triumphantly assured Brant that you had done it. 

He laughed. “Good job, my lady. Now practice it a few times to get a hang of it.” 

“It's fine to call me by my first name,” you said with a slight blush as you dismounted, only to climb back up again. Being called a lady was reserved for someone of much higher status, for someone who dined with other lords and ladies, and hearing the title be aimed at you was strange to say the least. 

“Then you may do the same.”

You sent him a smile as you pulled yourself onto the horse again. “Brant was it, right?” 

“The one and only. Though maybe not, as it is a pretty common name. Stay on your horse, we will continue with the next exercise.” He gave the horse a soft pat on the neck. “I'm glad you will be our new healer for the time being. The last one was an asshole that made sure it hurt when he tended to your wounds; but when you treated them it was almost like the pain instantly faded. We needed something to give us a little boost of optimism again.”

You peered into the direction of the wheat fields. “Surely my joining hasn't made that much of an impact?” Wasn't it uncomfortable for them to have a woman amongst their party of men? They had only known you for less than a day, so they couldn't really judge you yet - whether positively or negatively - right? 

“It has.” He followed your gaze towards the mountain slope. “You've shown many qualities that we respect, both as soldiers and as men, and we think you'll be a valuable asset to the team.”

Your heart felt as if it had slightly grown in size. To be respected so quickly, so thoroughly; his words had larger an impact than he was probably aware of, and you closed your eyes for a moment to relish in the feeling. You had made the right decision, you just knew it. Your future was, however cheesy it sounded, filled with adventure and good company, and with each second that passed you grew more ready to leave. 

The world awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has left kudos and comments so far! I appreciate it so much ;u; I am so proud of this story but like every writer I doubt myself and my writing, so this really keeps me going. Please let me know what you think! ♡


	5. V

“You're a fast learner,” Brant said with a smile as you stirred the horse into a trot.

You tried to find the flow of the movements again, trying to get in sync with the stallion, and were too focused to hear his compliment. You were honestly so glad you wore pants every day – you could only imagine how uncomfortable riding must be for those who wore skirts or dresses. 

After a few more rounds you dared to increase the speed to a gallop. You moved with Hallr, paid attention to every sound he made and every twitch of his muscles, and adjusted if needed. Then you gradually slowed him down again, and eventually brought him to a full stop so you could swing your leg over his back and fall to solid ground. This was wonderful – better than wonderful! Sure, you definitely weren't the best rider, possibly one of the worst as you had no one to compare yourself to, but you could do it!  
You threw a gigantic smile at Brant, your excitement obvious to anyone who was watching. 

“This will do for now. You'll be able to keep up with us, and along the way you will learn even more as you become closer to Hallr; he's a gentle one, so you two will get along just fine.” 

You smiled and gave the horse a gentle pat on its shoulder, until you remembered that his previous owner had not made it, and your hand fell back to your side. “Who was the soldier who owned him before they passed on? What were they like?” 

The look in the soldiers eyes lost a bit of its mirth. “Cuyler was a great man. He specialised in bow and arrow, but he knew how to give me a tough time during training sessions with swords or fists as well. He always knew how to cheer everyone up.” He took a hold of the reins and stroked Hallr's head, his eyes focused beyond this realm. “We lost many good men and their steeds yesterday, it feels so raw and yet so distant already. I don't know if I should be angry with myself for feeling this way.” 

You answered in a voice as soft as his. “I think it might just be the way you cope with it. Don't be too hard on yourself, everyone mourns in their own way.” He nodded, and met your gaze with thankfulness in his own. You waved it away with a smile before he could say anything. “I think it's time to check up with the others.” 

 

After You and Brant had brushed the horse, provided it with some water, and tied it to a pole again, the two of you walked to the large rain barrel that you had emptied for the soldiers to drop the berries in. One glance told you that what they had managed to gather wasn't enough yet. 

“I'm going to help the others out.” 

“Are you sure? The training was pretty intensive.” 

“It was, but if we don't leave tomorrow I think the ones in the woods will grow more and more alert with every hour we stay. They won't expect someone as wounded as prince Loki to depart so soon again, and we need to make use of that; it will give us another small advantage.” You searched the cabinets for another bag and, when you found one, swung it over your shoulder. 

“Give me a bag as well. I will help.” 

You handed him one and stood, noticing the silence just as you were about to leave again. Mom and dad were out gathering firewood and delivering medicine, but you didn't hear a single movement in the house. 

“Just a second,” you muttered as you peeked into the kitchen and the dormitory, “where is prince Loki?” 

He shrugged, not particularly caring. 

“I told that idiot to rest-” 

You rushed out of the door and sprinted towards the wheat fields, hoping he hadn't ripped open his wounds and was now bleeding to death.

 

You recognised him easily, standing quite far apart from the others, and climbed up the rather steep slope. “Prince Loki!” He glanced over his shoulder as he dropped a few berries into a bag, but didn't pay any further attention to you until you stood next to him. “You shouldn't be doing this-” 

“And why not?” He shot you a toxic look, a warning, but you didn't take it. 

“You know why.” You let out a sigh, using a tree for support. Your condition was fine but you were tired from working through the night and from the lessons of this afternoon; it was better to be safe and hold onto something than to be sorry when you rolled down the mountainside. “Are you sure you feel fine enough?” 

“I am not weak.” He spat the words at you, eyes cold and harsh. 

But you weren't intimidated. All right, a little bit intimidated, but mostly irritated. Couldn't he see you were just trying to make sure he was okay? And before you could stop yourself you had already started speaking. “Being weak and being foolish are two completely different things.” 

You instantly regretted it. 

He stepped forward and planted his hand above your shoulder and against the tree behind you, his face dangerously close and his blue-green eyes piercing through yours with a fire that could burn the courage out of anyone.

“Do you want to lose your life, village girl?” He growled, his other hand curling around your neck. 

“Wouldn't that be disadvantageous for both of us?” Your voice was much calmer than you felt, but you knew he wouldn't harm you. Not in a way that would kill you, anyway. 

You gingerly placed your fingers around his wrist but didn't pull his hand away - instead, you let your magic swirl and mix with his again. It was almost as if you had missed the feeling. Could magic connect? Could the two of you combine your magic and make it twice as powerful? You pushed the thoughts away; this was not the time to be distracted. You did not look away but kept his gaze, staring back with the same intensity as him, and spoke without letting your voice waver. 

“I trust you not to hurt me.” 

He scanned your eyes again. Maybe it were the golden specks that adorned your irises that confused him? You were the only one in the village who had it, but because you didn't know anyone else from outside you didn't know whether it was uncommon or not. Maybe it wasn't the gold, maybe there were lots of other people out there that had it, but then why was he studying your eyes so much? Was he trying to gauge what you were feeling? Surely it shouldn't be that hard for him, with his fingertips on the artery in your neck? 

“Trust will only get you hurt.” 

He let go, averted his eyes, stepped away, and carried on picking berries like nothing had happened. This man confused you more than anyone ever had. You observed him for a moment before you stepped away from the tree yourself and started picking nillaberries as well, deciding whether to engage in conversation. You now knew for sure that he wouldn't hurt you, or he would have done so moments ago, and this gave you more courage – but maybe a bit too much. A grin spread on your face.

“So you're letting me get away with calling you foolish, then?” 

“Definitely not.” He threw one of the black orbs at your head, dryly watching it bounce off your cheek, and you could see the tiny bit of amusement in his eyes that he was unable to hide. Strange, how it was so difficult to read him at times, when a moment later it was so obvious his intentions were not malicious. 

Your grin only grew as you threw one back the very moment he returned to his task, hitting him against his temple, and for a split second you could see the corners of his lips pull up in a tiny, genuine smirk. It was gone within a blink of an eye and for a moment you stood silently, wondering if you had just seen something rare; or maybe if it had been a play of the light filtering through the canopy. 

You were almost violently awoken from your thoughts as a hand full of berries smacked against your face, definitely leaving black blotches on your skin, and soon your grin returned in twofold. You dove for another cluster and threw them, but he evaded the attack and fired back with another handful of his own. You quickly hid behind the tree and gathered a bunch, swiftly throwing them as you leaned out – which he had apparently be waiting for, as at least ten orbs struck your face and you were forced to retreat behind the trunk again. You needed to adjust your strategy, or you would be hit in the face every time you glanced past your hiding spot. Within seconds you had come up with at least three stupid ideas.  
You stuck out your arm in a flash and laughed when the berries struck your skin and stained your fingers. He had no ammunition, and this is when you lunged past the tree and fired your attack. 

But he wasn't there anymore. 

Confused, you scanned the bushes and the space between the trees, hoping to see a flash of his pale skin or black hair, but there was nothing that proved he was even on this mountainside anymore. Had he fallen down? Had his wounds opened again? Worry came rising from the pit of your stomach until suddenly it rained berries, and words were whispered into your ear. 

“You cannot win from me.” 

A shiver went down your spine and you stood frozen for a moment, before you even dared to turn around- yet he was once again gone. Was this his magic? Could he move through space without actually moving? You let your eyes wander over your surroundings. Wait... you could still feel the presence of his magic nearby. You closed your eyes and focused, trying to pinpoint where it was the strongest. He was close...

There. 

You grabbed a handful and threw them with all your might – and your heart jumped in excitement when you heard a soft sound of surprise. You laughed and dove to grab more ammo, yet when you stood back up and lifted your arm to throw, a hand wrapped gently yet firmly around you wrist and prince Loki materialized in front of you. 

“You're quite the clever girl, aren't you?” The smirk on his lips was wider than you had seen it before, and it only caused yours to grow. 

“I win,” you said as your glance darkened, and before he could figure out what you meant you smeared the berries down his cheek. 

He let out a warm, genuine laugh, his eyes scrunching up in mirth, and smeared his own handful over your face as well. 

“I guess it's a tie, then,” you laughed, and wiped the back of your free hand across your black-stained face. 

“Oh I definitely won.” He let go of your wrist and stepped back.

“Let's get back to work, foolish prince.” You sent him another playful smirk, happy he answered it with one of his own, and the two of you focused on the task again – yet this time continued with lips pulled up in gentle smiles. 

 

 

“What in the world has happened to the two of you?” 

You grinned awkwardly at Thor and cast a glance at Loki from the corner of your eye, who seemed like he was trying to hold back a chuckle. It felt good to see this side of him. 

“Prince Loki wanted to see if the berries really stained as deep a black as I had claimed. I must admit it got a bit out of hand.” You hid your smile behind the back of your blotched hand and quickly glanced into the barrel so you could change the subject. “I think this might be enough. Please thank your men for all their hard work and tell them to rest.” You turned to the other prince. “I'll show you where you can wash it off, please follow me.” 

And he did. The two of you walked towards the trough and you gave the pump a few swings until a layer of water had formed at the bottom. “It might take some proper scrubbing but it should get off quite easily.” You knelt down and cupped some water in your hands, splashing it in your face and giving your cheeks a good rubbing. Suddenly water poured over your head and you let out a yelp, quickly pulling yourself back and glancing up at the grinning prince, his hand still on the handle of the pump. 

“I'm not going to kneel on the dirty ground only to wash my face with water from a trough.” 

“Oh, so you decided to ruin my hair instead, then?” You retorted, brushing a few wet strands behind your ear. You stood up and wrung the water from your hair for as far as possible and wiped the droplets from your face. 

“There wasn't much to ruin.” 

“And now you are just blatantly insulting me.” You chuckled. “I had it coming, hadn't I? All right, wait here.” 

You walked back to the shop, entered, ignored all the strange glances from the other men, grabbed a clean rag, and left again. Next you got a bucket, rinsed it a few times, and filled it, before walking back to prince Loki. 

“Okay, now stand still or I might just poke you in your eye.” You gingerly rubbed the wet rag over his cheek. You knew he was studying your face again, but you ignored his gaze and kept your eyes focused on the black stains instead. 

“You could have given me a mirror and I could have done it myself, village girl.” You stopped, hand still keeping the rag against his cool skin, and met his gaze as you suddenly realised this as well. He smirked. “Or are you just eager to serve?” 

“As a healer only,” you dryly answered as you threw the rag over his face and set the bucket down. “I will get you a mirror.” 

And once again you walked to the shop to get the object for your quest. It didn't take you long to return to the prince and to hand him the small wooden frame with an even smaller reflective surface within, which had been worn and damaged over time. 

“Good luck with that.” 

He sent you a slightly irritated look, but you just grinned and knelt down in front of the trough to get back to ridding your own face of any black smudges.

 

The barrel was filled at least three quarters of the total volume, and you nodded contently; this would be enough. Now just for the most energy-sucking task. 

“Do you need any help?” Brant and another soldier, of whom you did not know the name, came walking over. 

You sent them a weary smile. “I would appreciate that.”

“Iver, you go first. I'll get the others.” Iver nodded, and turned back to you as the other walked away. 

“What do you need me to do, miss?” 

You handed him a large stick with a round, perforated platform on the lower half, which fit into the barrel perfectly. “Push this up and down until as much berries as possible have been squashed. It's quite tiring, so make sure you stop before you overexert yourself.”

He nodded, and as he started on his task you took a moment to observe him. He was shorter than Brant yet still muscular, and you guessed he was at least two or three years younger, so around your age. From the three-fingered archer's glove you could tell he was specialised in bow and arrow, but the sword hanging from his hip told you that he was trained in one-on-one combat as well. Probably all of them were, now you thought about it. 

When Brant returned with three others you thanked them for their help and left them to work. You needed to sit down for a bit. After entering the shop you let yourself fall down on one of the benches, fully claiming it by lying on your back, and allowed your eyes to fall shut. 

 

“Are you all right, miss?” 

You shot back up, straining your neck in the process, and let out a soft sigh as you rubbed the tender spot and cast your glance upwards at the soldier that had addressed you. “Just a bit tired, that's all, but thank you for you concern, eh...?” 

“Stigr. I'm the scout that got everyone lost and injured.” His glance was troubled, and you could almost feel the guilt radiating from his presence. He was about as old as Iver and you but, though his eyes told you he was smart, he was younger at heart; or at least more prone to let his emotions keep him prisoner. 

“Come sit down for a bit.” You patted on the spot beside you. 

With confusion in his eyes he slowly followed your command. You turned your body so that you were facing him, your arm resting against the backrest for support. 

“I understand that you feel guilty, and I can see that it hurts you still.” He nodded, not really knowing what to do or say. “But mistakes happen, even to the best and smartest of men and women. You are no exception to that rule. Neither am I, or Brant, or even prince Thor, and as far as I have heard prince Loki is pretty much all mistakes,” Stigr laughed, and a soft smile grew on your face as well. “So don't beat yourself up over it. There are so many possibilities of worse things occurring if you hadn't taken the road that happened to be a detour – just think about it. The ones that attacked you could have been out there as well; what if they had counted on you to lead them the right way and had to improvise with a smaller group? There could have been a pack of wolves roaming through that area, a tree could have been uprooted in the storm, or a mudslide could have swept the ground from beneath your feet.” 

You could see how his way of thinking slowly turned around. 

“Throw some water on your face, let your guilt wash away, get some sleep. The past is unchangeable. Things have happened, and you need to keep going. You can honour those who were lost by giving it your all again, by learning from this experience, and not by letting the event keep you down.” You held back a yawn; it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. “I know that knowing this will not magically make the pain go away. It's okay to feel sad, angry, things like that. Just don't let it cloud your judgment.” 

Stigr was silent for a while, but you waited patiently for your words to find a place to settle inside of him. And when it finally did he nodded, sending you a smile that wordlessly spoke of gratitude and respect. “Brant had told me of your wisdom.” 

You tried not to show your surprise, and answered his smile. “Feel free to come to me when something troubles you again.'” 

You were glad to see him cheer up a bit, but you were secretly even happier when he left. You let your back fall onto the thin seat pillows and closed your eyes again. As long as the men were busy juicing the nillaberries you could catch up on some sleep; and within seconds your mind had wandered off to nonexistent worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaa I think this is one of my favourite chapters hfbgbjhg  
> Okay so it's like midnight here and I should have been asleep for a while so I haven't really edited it yet but I wanted to upload this so!! here you go!! hahaha send h e l p i need more sleep ~~and more Loki~~


	6. VI

Slowly the strange landscapes faded around you and gravity got a hold of your mind again, forcing you to wake up. But the sheets were too comfortable and the mattress was soft and warm, your position not uncomfortable for once, so how could you say no to a few more hours of sleep?

Wait. 

Hadn't you fallen asleep on the bench? 

You shot up and scanned your surroundings, only to let out a relieved sigh when you noticed someone had moved you to one of the beds in the dormitory. You let all tension flow from your muscles again and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. What was the time? You had fallen asleep around twilight, but beams of sunlight were falling through the arched windows. Was it morning already? You hadn't even made them lunch, and now you had slept through both dinner and breakfast - great host you were, letting your guests starve like that. 

“Ah, you're awake!” Thor came walking over to you, concern in his eyes. “Are you feeling all right?” 

“I'm feeling well rested and re-energised, thank you. I apologise for falling asleep before providing everyone with something to eat-” 

“Nonsense,” the golden-haired man boomed amiably, “if you slept this thoroughly then your body and mind needed it. I hope you don't mind that I have taken the liberty to allow some of my men into your pantry. We will pay for the food we have taken, of course.” 

Relief washed over you. “I'm glad to hear that you have taken sustenance.” 

“We have saved a portion for you.” He handed you the bowl he had apparently been holding all this time. Maybe you weren't quite fully awake yet. 

“Thank you. I will return to my tasks soon.” 

 

You rushed to fill your empty stomach and nearly choked on a bite, but there was still lots to do and quite a limited amount of time. Immediately after you had returned your bowl to the kitchen you dashed up the stairs and packed the things you needed on your journey: the few sets of clothes you had, your water bladder, the pouch with needles and thread, a dagger, some neatly folded rags, fresh linen bandaging, a little box with some bottles of medicine and ointments that you deemed most useful, some money, a few empty bags, an empty notebook, and finally the inkwell and pen Illasias had bought you a few years ago. It all fit in a shoulder bag, with some space to spare. 

Next was to check up on Loki's wounds - if you could find him, that was. There were quite a lot of men in the dormitory, but none of them with clear, blue-green eyes and slicked-back, raven hair; and the kitchen was empty. You even looked in your own room, the guest room, and your parents' room, but he was nowhere to be found. 

You stepped outside and walked over to Brant, who had guard duty. “Have you seen prince Loki around? He's not inside.” But he shrugged, not really caring about the man's whereabouts.

“Haven't seen him around after he carried you to the dormitory. What did you do to tame him anyway?” 

You snorted. “Tame him?” 

“If any of us had called him an idiot we would be dead by now, or at least injured in some horrible way; let alone when we had defiled his face with berries.” He grinned. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

You didn't smile, though. “Has he really done such things?” 

“Not that we've seen, but we've heard the tales. Anyway, we're not eager to try and find out. Better stay away from him too, you don't know what he might do to you.” 

The other guard entered the conversation. “He's sly like a snake, and cunning like a feral fox. You don't get nicknames like 'trickster' and 'silvertongue' without a reason; he only does what he wants and pays no attention to who he hurts in the process.” 

“You really don't like him, do you?” You muttered, not sure how to respond. 

Brant huffed in dislike, maybe even hatred. “What is there to like about a selfish, arrogant, and spoiled man that is evil to the core and doesn't show a single grain of respect or kindness?” 

You wanted to tell him that he wasn't like that, that he wasn't 'evil to the core', but you realised that they had been travelling and working with the prince for far longer than you had. You had known him for a day. Who were you to tell them they were wrong about someone you barely knew yourself? You chose not to continue on the subject; you would decide for yourself if the prince was really as bad as almost everyone claimed, and if Thor had been biased towards his brother. 

“Anyway, if you see him, tell him I need to inspect his wounds even if he thinks it's fine. There's no room for negotiation.” 

The men nodded, clearly not looking forward to addressing Loki, but you knew they would follow your orders. You did not stop your own search, however. You checked the shed, all around the house, and even wandered through the rest of the town for a while, occasionally stopping for a chat. You informed the baker of your department, and ensured the blacksmith you would be back in a few months, as they were good friends of yours and regular customers as well, and told the bowyer that his medicine for this month was ready. With an aching heart you evaded Audun's house. 

But nowhere was there a black-haired prince to be found, and when at least an hour of wandering had passed you gave up. There were other things you needed to do. 

 

About two hours later you had done your rounds and completed all your tasks, including an unrequired checkup on the minor wounds of the soldiers. With every moment that passed you started to worry more and more, even though you knew you shouldn't – he wasn't dying somewhere, he was just being the stubborn fool he was, and he definitely wouldn't let himself get captured by the enemy. Then an idea struck you, and you knew how to 'summon' him. 

You walked to the centre of the street, set your hands around your mouth, and yelled. 

“PRINCE LOKI IS AN IDIOT AND A FOOL” 

You immediately felt all the soldier's eyes on you, wide in complete and utter horror, and you could see the blood drain from Brant's face. Thor stepped outside, his angry frown quickly morphing into a confused one when he saw you standing there, grinning like you were the idiotic one. And maybe you were. 

“You are the one making quite the fool of yourself, village girl.” 

“There you are,” you responded with a grin, and gave Brant and the others a thumbs up before turning back to the annoyed man in front of you. “I've been looking everywhere for you. I need to check your wounds before we make ourselves ready to depart.”

“And you think I will just come along, that I will let you get away with calling me both an idiot and a fool?” 

“I do.”

“How about you properly find me, first,” he replied with a smirk, and disappeared right in front of your eyes. 

“Wait- “ 

But he was gone, and a frustrated sigh escaped your lungs.

 

Thor met your gaze as you walked over to him. “I have finished all my tasks apart from one, but my last task apparently doesn't want to be found. I hope to be back before twilight, so I can help with preparing your horse.”

“I apologise if my brother is causing you any inconvenience. He can be quite... difficult, to work with at times. I hope you do not think badly of him.” His eyes were almost pleading, but you smiled reassuringly. 

“I must admit that he certainly is not the easiest, but I do not see him in a bad light.” 

His relief was obvious in his eyes and smile. “Thank you.” He bent closer, and whispered. “Sometimes, to catch a loose horse, all you have to do is wait.” 

You grinned. “But where is the fun in that?” 

 

Yet, slowly but steadily, you began to regret your decision and realised that Thor might have been right after all. You had followed the faint presence of his magic in the air for at least fifty minutes now, and yet every time you felt like you were getting close it faded and left you standing and staring into nothingness for a while as you tried to pick up the trail again. You were now standing in the woods where you had picked the berries, on the slope behind the wheat fields. He knew how you were tracking him.

“I know you're avoiding me,” you called out through the trees, “but I just want to make sure your wounds have properly healed.” You climbed higher, following the feeling as it had come to your attention once more. You stopped for a while and walked around a big, downslope leaning tree so you could lay your back against it and have gravity keep you in place without having to use your own energy to keep standing. Air spilled from your lungs as you sighed deeply. “Some games stop being fun after a while. Aren't you getting tired of being chased? Because I sure am getting tired of chasing someone who doesn't want me to find him.” 

No response came. 

“Do you want me to say anything? Aplogise?”

Nothing. 

“All right then, but I don't really see why. You know I do not think of you as either an idiot nor a fool, even though your behavior is close to foolish at times, but I apologise for yelling it.” 

And as it stayed silent once more your voice lost its stubbornness. 

“Are you truly that mad at me? Or do you want me to keep apoligising until you grow sick of it yourself?” You sighed. “Thank you, by the way, for moving me to the dormitory after I had fallen asleep. I know your men dislike you, and I'm sure you have known it for quite some time already, but I just don't understand why you would keep up these appearances of being a villain. Why would you want your men to fear you? Because trust will only get you hurt?” You moved around the tree and sat down facing the village down below, keeping firm hold of a root to keep you from falling down. “I do not know what happened to make you think that, and I'm sorry you needed to go through it, but sometimes it's better to be hurt bad once in a while than to constantly keep hurting softly.” 

The sun was setting behind the trees on the horizon, and you silently watched the sky grow from pastel pink to deep red for a while. Then, you stood, and glanced around for the last time. 

“I hope we can get along during the journey I will accompany you on. I'm not one of your soldiers, and I do not fear you. I hope you can see that as well.” 

And you started on your way down. 

 

 

 

“Any luck finding him?” 

You shook your head. “I will just have to inspect his injuries right before we leave. Let's get your horse ready.” 

Moments later you and six other men including Thor were smearing the black goop all over the previously pristine white coat. It worked perfectly. Sure, it would never be as black as Loki's stallion, but it definitely wouldn't catch someone's eye during the night anymore. You weren't the only one enjoying it: Iver was drawing figures on his shirt and Brant was dyeing another soldier's dark blond locks with a massive grin on his face. It was therefore no surprise that painting the whole horse took a bit longer than you had anticipated. 

By the time you were done the sun had disappeared and darkness had consumed the colours in the sky. It was almost time to go. As the soldiers were saddling their horses you walked over to Medhea and Illasias, who were watching from the entrance to the shop. 

“This is it, then. Our daughter is about to discover the rest of the realm.” Illasias smiled, pride in his eyes, and opened his arms in an invitation. You gladly took it and wrapped your own around him in a tight hug. 

“Promise us that you will come home safe,” Medhea said, her voice betraying her effort to keep back her tears. 

You let go of Illasias and caught her in a hug just as tight. “I will, mom; I promise.” 

“We love you, you know that, right?” 

“Of course I do, and I love both of you twice as much.” 

Smiles were exchanged, and tears were wiped away.

“Now go, make sure those boys don't do anything stupid.” Illasias handed you your shoulder bag with all the things you had packed. 

You laughed. “I will.” 

With a last wave you walked over to Hallr, who Brant had saddled for you, and mounted. It was then that you noticed prince Loki atop of his steed, coldly staring into nothingness. There was no time left to check his wounds as the party was already moving, so you paid no further attention to him and instead spurred your horse into motion, twisting around to glance back at your parents, at your home, and at your village, peaceful Blacktree, until it all disappeared behind the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the journey begins!! All of this was pretty much prologue, but ho boi is there stuff to come!


	7. VII

Thor had kept his word about you being treated the same as him and his brother. You rode with the princes, in the middle of the formation and protected by the other soldiers. This week was getting stranger and stranger; patching up two men who happened to be the most powerful princes in the whole of Asgard and who then had invited you to join them, and in addition had one of their party members to teach you how to ride a horse. It sounded too good to be true, and yet here you were. 

But the first hour of the ride no one was comfortable - because no one felt safe. There were no conversations as everyone was trying to be as silent as possible, no exchanging of smiles because everyone's eyes were scanning the surroundings, and the whole forest seemed to hold its breath. Once a wolf had howled, but it hadn't been answered, and when Thor cast a glance at you, you shook you head; it was far away and not on the hunt. They decided to increase the pace just to be sure.   
Another hour passed before you quietly remarked that it was better to turn left here and to go around the narrow canyon than to go through; it would probably take an extra three hours, but it wouldn't risk any lives. They accepted your preposition with a nod, and the rest of the way it was silent riding again, until the sun slowly rose above the treetops and until it worked its way up into the sky. Only around noon did everyone feel safe enough to make a quick stop beside a creek. 

You awkwardly slid of your horse, your butt feeling as if it was made of wood and your legs sore from being parted so wide for so long. When your feet touched the ground you almost sank through them, but you were just quick enough to grab a firm hold of the saddle to keep you standing, and let out a soundless sigh both in pain and relief. 

Brant chuckled. “Sore already?” 

You quickly stood up straight and let go of the saddle, an awkward blush appearing on your cheeks. “I am inexperienced, as you know,” you retorted as you shot him a fake irritated glance, and he laughed. 

“You'll get used to it, and after a while it will stop hurting; but for the next couple of days be prepared to feel it burn constantly. You seemed unbothered during your training, though.” 

“That was probably because of the adrenaline and excitement,” you mumbled, gently rubbing the sore spots on your calloused hands. You needed gloves, or at least some kind of cloth to wrap around your palms so the reins wouldn't scrape your skin off. For now you would have to spend a little bit of energy into healing. 

Healing others was much easier and cost way less energy. Your magic 'asked' the body of the wounded one to spend some energy on repairing tissue in a particular place, which, in combination with a bit of your own energy and the bit that came from your magic itself, resulted in quicker healing. The subject would feel a bit more tired than they would during normal recovering, but that could be evened out with nutritious food and a lot of sleep. If you wanted to heal yourself, however, you couldn't use the energy of someone else, but had to rely on that of your own, and you hadn't really trained that part of your stamina yet as all you had ever needed to heal were minor cuts and scrapes. Sure, you had thought about breaking one of your fingers to train yourself to get better, but in the end didn't dare to follow through with your plan – and you were glad you hadn't. Healing bones was so much more difficult than healing muscle or skin, and you could have risked never being able to fully use the finger again. 

Slowly the soreness faded from your body and you walked over to the creek with Hallr, allowing him to drink and kneeling down to quench your own thirst as well. The clear water was clean and cold and you closed your eyes for a moment to relish the taste of it. It had been a long time since you had visited any meltwater creeks, and you had forgotten how much better it was compared to the water that came from the lake or from underneath the ground. You washed your face and filled your water bladder to the brim before walking over to the men sitting against a couple of trees beyond, who greeted you with smiles and gestured for you to sit down. 

“I was waiting for an opportunity to talk to you,” one of them immediately mentioned. “I saw you with that hellhorse. What did you do? Whenever any of us do even as much as walking past that beast it tries to kill us.” 

“I guess I followed my instinct. Being respectful to it helps, though.” You smiled awkwardly, not used to the large amount of attention. “If I may ask, could all of you maybe tell me your names? I have spoken to some of you quite a few times and yet I only know Brant, Iver, and Stigr by name.” 

The man who had addressed you first was called Trygve, and the soldier who had been on guard with Brant when you had been looking for prince Loki was Jari; whose golden locks had also been dyed with berry juice. Trygve looked like the softer kind, with a gentle aura and a smile that told you he could be trusted, whereas Jari looked rather like the more extroverted type; always bursting with energy and talking with enthusiasm. Lastly there were Einer and Rangvaldr, who seemed the most reclusive of the bunch. The latter also appeared to be the eldest, and his eyes spoke of both knowledge and wisdom – Einer, however, looked as if nothing would ever cheer him up, like his face was stuck in an eternal frown. He radiated disapproval and annoyance. You tried not to jump to conclusions and to judge too soon, though; maybe he was like prince Loki.

Where was that man, anyway?

You couldn't really look around as the men were dramatically telling you stories of the 'black horrorhorse' and you didn't want to be rude, but you could focus on Loki's magic without anyone noticing. You concluded that he wasn't far, but that he wasn't close either, a bit out of sight you guessed; the magic-searching stuff apparently got less accurate the larger the distance became. You understood why he wasn't amongst his men, though, as the conversation quickly went down in volume when another subject arose.

“That horse is just like his owner, anyway,” Jari added, and the others nodded. “I feel sorry for you that you have to be around him this much, miss. If he ever does anything to you, please know that we will be here to protect you.” Another round of affirming sounds.

“You couldn't possibly turn against your prince, especially if he really is as horrible as in the tales you speak of - wouldn't that put your lives in danger?” 

“Thor will keep him from killing us. I think he will be on our side, on _your_ side, if Loki does anything; and he is the heir of the throne, so he has a higher status and therefore more power than his brother.” Brant cast you a reassuring smile. “So don't worry about us; it's us that need to worry about you.” 

You suddenly didn't feel Loki's magic around anymore. It probably was nothing to fret about, so you returned your attention to the conversation and softly shook your head. “I don't think he will hurt me. He could have done so many times, but-” 

“Yeah when you called him an idiot and a fool,” Jari laughed loudly. “I am amazed he let you get away with it so easily. Maybe he doesn't dare to hurt you in front of his brother, or maybe your courage frightens him.” 

“Let the maiden finish her sentence, Jari,” Rangvaldr remarked, and Jari responded with an awkward grin. The older man turned his gaze to you and nodded, to which you bowed your head lightly in gratitude. 

“Thank you, Rangvaldr." You glanced around the group of men. "You all speak so foul of him, and yet he has not hurt me once, not even when I called him a fool. He even helped picking berries and moved me to a more comfortable bed when I had fallen asleep on the bench.” You decided not to tell them about the berry fight, but the mere thought of it made you smile, still. “Of course I do not know him like you do, and maybe you are right about the fact that he cannot hurt me in front of prince Thor, but I will not label him as evil until I see something that confirms it.” 

The older man smiled for a moment, followed by an acted stern look aimed at the others. “Now enough about our prince. It is bad enough that you speak negatively of him out loud, and the lady is right; we should not judge based on legends and tales.”

And that was it. They accepted his command without resistance, and the conversation easily turned to lighter subjects. After a while of amiable chatting you excused yourself and walked over to Thor. 

“Prince Thor, have you seen your brother? I didn't get the chance to examine how far he has healed before we left. And how is your arm?” 

“I'm fine, thank you. I saw Loki going that way,” he pointed at the mentioned direction, “but he might not want to be found, much like yesterday.”

“Too bad I'm too stubborn to give up,” you sighed, and continued. You still hoped your obstinacy would pay off as you didn't think a weak approach would work on the pale-skinned man. 

 

 

It was best not to venture too far out, as you had left the parts of the woods you knew well quite a while ago. The trees looked the same and there wasn't any difference in foliage yet, but the mosses seemed to slowly grow paler in colour, which could mean a gradual change in properties. It was worth to check it out as you searched for the second prince, and so you gathered a bit on your walk. In the end it wasn't you that found him, however, but rather the other way around. 

“Shouldn't you stay close to Thor, make sure I cannot hurt you?” His words dripped with venom, making the hairs in the back of your neck stand up straight. “Are you not afraid you are putting your precious life in danger?” 

You turned around to face him, not quite prepared for the anger in his eyes. 

“I could just live up to their expectations, you know,” he quickly strode over to you and violently pushed you against the tree behind you, hand tightly wrapping around your neck as he hissed his words, “I will make you regret ever leaving the sight of your little soldier friends.” 

The déja vu only fired up your own frustration. 

“Show me, then! Show me how horrible you are, confirm the stories for me. Hit me, stab me, kill me, do whatever you like,” you hissed back, heart beating like it wanted to rip itself out of your chest, “until then I do not believe you are a man lost to evil.” His fingers tightened, it was getting harder to breathe. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Then what do you believe I am, hm? You think I'm like my brother?”

You tried to suck in some air but the passage to your lungs was nearly squeezed shut and stars were beginning to dance in front of your eyes, your heart was beating like crazy and every fibre in your being told you to give up, to push him away and to run, but you kept your hands down and your courage boiling. 

“I can see the fear in your eyes. They all fear me, and for good reason. I am the trickster, the corrupt prince, the villain.” 

“I'm not afraid of you,” you wheezed.

“ _Liar_ ,” he growled back, and abruptly let go.

You were able to break your fall and sat back on your knees, hunched over and coughing your lungs out. Your head was both light and heavy, and colours were dancing in your vision. You tasted blood.   
“I need...” The coughing interrupted you again and the hoarseness of your voice shocked you a bit, but you forced the words out with all your might, no matter how distorted they sounded. “I need to see your wounds.” 

You couldn't look up to see why he was being silent for so long, or if he was still there at all. 

“Please, I just-” another coughing fit. 

“Why are you so - why are you not crying?” It was more of a statement than a question, his voice softer, the anger had started to mix with confusion. “I nearly choked you to death and you still keep insisting on tending to my injuries? Are you truly that desperate to die?” 

Slowly the coughing grew less intense but you didn't trust your body enough to stand up yet, and so kept one hand firmly dug into the forest floor and the other gingerly touching your neck. You could feel the bruises forming. 

“Sit... down.” 

He didn't respond. 

“ _Sit. Down_.” You glanced up, hoping your glare was commanding and deadly enough for him to cooperate, but maybe the way you were still panting diminished the impact. 

He stood there for a moment, just watching you like you were some kind of strange, exotic animal, but then he sat. He rested his back against a large oak, eyes scanning you with a look that you couldn't figure out, but it didn't matter. His tantrum was over and you could finally do what you had been hired for, Yggdrasil be damned if you didn't live up to your part of the agreement. Trying to ignore your burning pride you crawled the last steps over to him on your hands and knees, before kneeling down between his spread legs and straightening your bruised back. Your eyes were on the same level as his now, and you made sure to give him another warning glance before you focused on his armour and tried to figure out how it went off. After a few seconds without progress it became frustrating. After a few more moments it became plain awkward. 

“Please take off your armour,” you eventually huffed as you retracted your hands and tried not to grow red in defeat. You had expected him to make a witty reply, or at least to smirk, but without taking his eyes off yours he undid the mechanics and pulled it off. It was making you nervous, and you quickly averted your eyes to his abdomen again. 

“You idiot,” you whispered in frustration as you saw the fresh bloodstains on his bandages. You opened your shoulder bag, grabbed one of the clean rags, undid the linen without cutting it, neatly folded it, and lay it on your knees. And, as you had expected, the largest wound had slightly opened up again. “You should take better care of yourself, or at least allow me to do so.” You cleared your throat, but the hoarseness stayed. 

You wiped the blood away and inspected the cut for any dirt. After applying some salve you lay your hands on the flesh again and started healing, speaking up before he could even think about opening his mouth. “Do not stop me this time, just let me do my job. I will make sure you won't be able to mess up my work again.” After a few minutes of silent healing you softly shook your head. “This is exactly why I'm as stubborn as I am. The longer you would have kept walking around like that the higher the change it would get infected, and it always happens just when you really don't want it to.” Your throat was starting to hurt, but you ignored it. You could heal that later. 

“An infection won't kill me.” 

“It's exactly that attitude that will.” 

Slowly the energy drained from your body and into his, and, after and taking out the stitches and at least ten more minutes of healing, the wound had fully grown shut without an indication that it had ever been there in the first place. Not even a thin line on that pale white skin. 

You took your hands off his stomach, sat back, and sighed. “Please just promise me you will take good care of yourself? It makes both your life and my job a whole lot easier.” 

As you glanced at how neatly you had healed him your hand unconsciously moved to your neck, and his eyes followed. For a moment you thought you saw regret. 

You decided to ignore it and smiled softly at him. “All done, not even a scratch left. I don't have enough energy to heal the other two as well, but seeing as those haven't opened up again I think it will be fine.” You put the bloody rag and bandages into your bag and shoved yourself backwards. You were a bit dizzy, which wasn't much of a surprise, but you underestimated how much your body had had to endure – and so when you pushed yourself off the ground to stand up, your legs gave way. 

Loki shot forward and caught your shoulders before you smacked back into the ground, pushing you back upright and helping you to stand. 

“You ask me to take care of myself, only to give your energy to a man who bruised your neck in an attempt to kill you. Maybe the title of 'idiot' suits you better.” But his voice was soft, causing the edges of your lips to twitch upwards. 

“You weren't trying to kill me, or you would have done so.” 

“Don't make me regret it.” 

You chuckled hoarsely, still keeping a firm hold of his bare shoulders as your legs felt like jelly. It took a few minutes before you slowly let go, but he kept his hands in place. 

“I can stand.” There he was with that intense look again, yet not responding. “I won't fall if you let go.” 

Then, slowly, he retracted his hands, letting them fall to his sides again, but his muscles stayed tense and his eyes scanned you for a few seconds more until he knew for sure your legs would hold. You opened your shoulder bag and took out a worn shawl, wrapping it around your neck and hiding the bruises. You couldn't heal them, as the discolouration of the skin was not a wound on its own, and even if you had been able to you wouldn't have had the energy for it, but your voice would be back to normal in a few minutes. 

You met his gaze and answered his unspoken question. “Nobody has to know. Your reputation will stay intact – with them, at least. Don't try acting all villain-y around me, I can see through that now. And for Yggdrasil's sake, come to me when I need to check your injuries.” 

You sent him a last smile, made sure the shawl stayed put, and started walking back to the others; leaving the half-naked prince behind in the woods.


	8. VIII

You smiled at Thor and gave him a thumbs up when you appeared from between the trees and out into the clearing. In the meanwhile you had healed your voice completely, and so worried not when the golden-haired man spoke.

“You found him, then? My brother?” 

“He found me,” you answered with a light smile. “His wounds are healing nicely.” 

You made your way over to Hallr and gave the horse a soft rub on the muzzle. Another horse pressed its nose against your back and you desperately tried to keep in the yelp of pain – you had completely forgotten about your back; of course it would get hurt by being smashed against a tree. You turned around to see the black stallion, eyes curious, and you couldn't help but chuckle. The pain was quickly forgotten as you spurred your magic into action.

“In need of some attention, are you? Maybe not quite like your owner after all, then.” You gently stroked its forehead.

“I would not jump to conclusions so quickly, village girl.” 

You turned around to the smirking prince, who, to your relief, was fully clothed, and pulled up an eyebrow. “So you need attention as well? Does that mean you want me to rub your forehead?” You tried to keep your face serious but the corners of your mouth kept twitching upwards. “Or does it rather mean that you need a different approach than others?” You dared to send him a knowing glance before turning your face back to the horse and continued stroking its cheek. 

“Don't be a smart arse.” But he chuckled softly nonetheless and gave his steed a pat on the neck.

“What's his name?” 

“Egil. Not many care to ask, and even fewer dare to get close to him.” Affection snuck into his eyes as he let his fingers glide over the black coat. 

"He's frightening, until you treat him with the respect he deserves and the affection he craves. Maybe I should start petting your cheek after all.” 

Loki laughed, loudly and genuinely, causing all the soldiers to turn their heads in confusion. “I do not think that will stop me from being frightening.” 

“You're not frightening when you laugh,” you replied in a softer tone as you rested your forehead against Egil's, eyes closed and a playful smile on your lips. 

He was silent for a moment, and when you glanced his way he averted his eyes. “That is something Thor's men would gladly argue about.” He moved his gaze to the soldiers, who quickly turned their blood-drained faces away, and for a fraction of a second you thought his shoulders to tense. 

“Then I will speak louder than all of them together. You really need to stop listening to them, a common enemy binds men in friendship and you were the only thing available.” 

Loki opened his mouth to counter your words but it was then that Hallr made a distressed noise and sank through his legs. 

Your eyes widened in shock. You rushed to kneel down beside the creature, ignoring how your vision darkened for a moment, and lay your hand on his neck before inspecting his face. His temperature was way too high and the white of his eyes had discoloured. It couldn't have been the water nor the food, not here and not in Blacktree, as one glance at the other horses told you that they were fine, and panic made your heart pick up its pace. What had you missed? What had gone wrong? 

Then you remembered what Audun had said: one horse had a small cut on its side, probably caused by an arrow.

You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact with Loki. “Did any of your men die after being shot?” 

He nodded. “The arrows were coated in poison.” 

Why hadn't you noticed this? Why hadn't you inspected the cut as soon as Audun had informed you about it? You cursed yourself under your breath and scanned Hallr's side until you found it. The skin around it was definitely too hot and as soon as you touched it the horse whinnied weakly; it had taken long for the symptoms to fully manifest themselves, but you knew he was past saving. The discolouration of the conjunctiva told you his liver was severely damaged, and you feared his kidneys weren't much better off. There was no way you could heal him.

You leaned your forehead against its neck and fought the tears. You had been trusted with the care of this creature, had been trusted with its protection, and you had failed. The gentle creature was dying. 

You couldn't heal him, but maybe... maybe you could give him a painless death. 

With your hands on his coat and your eyes closed you set your magic to work. This was a whole other situation than healing someone, and required a different technique; you couldn't ask the body to put energy into suppressing its pain as it had barely any left, and giving the already low supply of your own energy wouldn't be enough for an entire horse, so you did something else instead: you took away his pain by absorbing it.  
It didn't damage your own body, as it was healthy still, but slowly the pain seeped through your hands into your arms and flowed further, deeper, and it certainly felt like you were dying. Tears streamed freely yet not out of sadness, as any emotion got blocked out by the overwhelming agony, but you knew it wouldn't last much longer - you could feel the life fade. Suddenly someone pulled you back. 

“Stop that immediately!” 

You let out the whimper of pain you had been holding back for a while now, not paying much attention to Loki's hissed words, and bent over with the feeling you needed to throw up. Nothing came, as there was nothing wrong with you, but it only left a horrible clenching feeling inside your chest. 

“Why in Yggdrasil did you think that was a good idea?” 

“What is wrong, brother? Let her mourn-” 

“She wasn't mourning, she was absorbing its pain.” 

“She what? She... she has magic?”

“Of course she has magic, how else do you think I've been able to ride a horse within two days?” 

You only barely heard the voices. It felt like your body was consuming itself from the inside out, like you were rotting underneath your skin, and the tears just kept coming as you let out another soft cry. Someone moved to sit in front of you, the hands holding your shoulders a comfort, but you couldn't look up, couldn't raise your chin in fear of hurting more. 

“Look at me, ____.” 

You couldn't, you couldn't, you couldn't -

“Look at me!” 

Why was he angry, why-

“You are going to give it to me right now. Right. Now.” 

You lifted your hand, slowly, trembling, and it hurt, it hurt so much -

He took you hand.

You could feel it flow away, slowly, agonizingly slowly, but away at least. You moved closer, needed to be closer, to get it out as fast as possible; you rested your head against his chest and dug your fingers into the leather of his armour, and sobbed until your lungs ran out of breath. He held your hand against his chest and lay the other around your shoulder, slowly absorbing the pain. His breathing was growing heavier, more ragged, and steadily the cloud moved away from your mind and you were able to feel other things again. And you realised you were putting him through hell. 

You tried to push him away but he kept a firm hold of you. “Prince Loki I d-d-don't want you to-” 

“It doesn't matter what you want.” 

Your heart started to slow down and your tears started to run out as the pain slowly dulled to an ache, and he let go of your shoulders. 

“I cannot take more.” 

But you didn't let go of his hand and armour yet. The world was spinning and his touch was the only thing keeping you from spinning with it. 

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry,” you kept muttering softly against his chest. 

“Foolish girl.” But his voice was gentle, and after a few more minutes you finally felt grounded enough to sit back. 

You wiped your itching cheeks and let out a last few sniffs. One glance at the stallion told you its soul had left, and your eyes began to burn again. The horse you had been assigned to care for died under your watch. You could have saved him. You could have saved him if you hadn't been so absent-minded, so distracted, so ignorant. 

“Hallr is dead because of me.” You let go of the prince's hand and reached out to touch the steed but Loki gingerly caught your wrist, pushing it back toward you. 

“He died because of a poisoned arrow.”

“I should have noticed.” 

Loki shook his head and sighed, untying the water bladder from his belt. “Drink.” 

You accepted the offer. The cool freshness of the water did your mind good, loosening the knot inside your chest. A few minutes passed just sitting and staring into nothingness until Loki stood and offered you his hand. You took it, pulling yourself up, but with averted eyes. You had caused him so much trouble, so much pain. Why hadn't you thought it through? Why hadn't you seen it was a bad idea to take on the pain of an entire horse? How was he able to cope without letting a single muscle tense up in agony? His breathing was slightly laboured, but that was the only sign that he wasn't feeling quite all right. But how? 

You sniffed a last time, wiping your fingers over the corners of your eyes, and dared to glance around for a moment. You immediately regretted it. Loki's eyes were another hint at the torture within him, and everyone else's were filled both with concern and shock. Thor was the first to speak. 

“Are you feeling all right?” 

You nodded.

“Please excuse my bluntness at such an inappropriate moment, but is Loki right? Do you possess magic?” 

Once more you nodded, your stomach twisting in fear. You had been the only one in Blacktree with the strange abilities, and for as far as you had heard it wasn't very common in other places either. Would you be executed for it? Hanged? Beheaded? 

“Then I am twice as glad you are on our side.” His smile was kind. You looked at him, dumbfounded, then a tiny smile of your own grew on your face as relief washed over you. You were safe. 

“She can ride with me.” 

Thor moved his gaze from you to his brother, slight confusion in his eyes – or was it disbelief? But before the raven-haired man could explain himself his black steed stepped forward and nudged your arm with its snout. You choked out a watery laugh and gently wrapped your arms around Egil's neck. 

“It is decided then, if... that is what you want as well?” 

You turned to the princes and smiled, ignoring the horrified glances from the soldiers, and parted your lips to confirm- 

“She can ride with me as well, if she prefers.” 

Brant answered your surprised gaze without hesitation, yet you lightly shook your head. “Thank you for your kind offer, but I will ride with prince Loki.” 

Something shifted in his eyes and you couldn't quite figure it out, but it had passed as quickly as it had come. He nodded. “Very well.”

The eyes of the others had grown even wider in shock. Was it really that hard for them to believe that you didn't fear him? You glanced at Loki, but even he seemed surprised. You let out a sigh, all these complicated social interactions had tired you to the bone and you still felt extremely guilty for putting Loki through hell, so all you really wanted to do was to sleep for days.

Thor seemed to notice your discomfort, so he turned to his men and raised his voice slightly - not that it was needed for all of them to hear him, as his voice was like the booming thunder already.

“We're leaving in about half an hour.” 

 

 

You intended to go splash some water into your face, but after you set even five steps you were greeted by Jari and Iver and your slow-paced trip to the creek was brought to a halt. 

Iver scanned your eyes. “Are you feeling quite all right, miss?” 

You nodded. “Just a bit weary.” 

“Did you really take away Hallr's pain?” Jari inquired, both with respect and shock in his gaze.

You nodded again. 

“So you really possess magic?”

“Let her be,” Brant interrupted with a stern voice and shooed the soldiers away, before sighing and sending you an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay, I was just going to get some water.” 

“I'll walk with you.” 

And so you continued down the path with the swordsman at your side. After doing what you had set out to do and letting your hands bathe in the cool stream you sat down against the closest tree, careful not to hit your back against it too harshly, and let your eyes slip shut in search of some sleep before the time came to depart. Apparently Brant, who had seated himself next to you, wouldn't have it. 

“Are you sure you want to ride with him? Don't let him pressure you into anything you don't want to do, all right?” 

You sighed in reply. “Brant, please accept my words when I say I trust prince Loki not to hurt me. I appreciate your concern, I truly do, but I will deal with him myself when he tries something; _if_ he tries something; and I do not believe he will.” He had even taken away your pain, so that was quite the opposite of hurting you, wasn't it?

“Then take off your scarf.” 

You desperately kept your eyes from flying open, and as you managed to open them slowly the next challenge was to keep your face as neutral as possible. You had promised the prince that you wouldn't tell anyone, but then again you hadn't expected anyone to notice, and so you had no explanation prepared. But did you really want to lie to Brant? Even though you only knew him for a couple of days you trusted him – maybe you really were too lenient in giving people your trust – and you felt like some sort of companionship had started to form during the riding instruction. 

Your head was hurting. 

Not even your witty replies or smart-arse comments would get you out of this, and so your defense was down. Show him the marks and you proved his point, that prince Loki was dangerous, which would almost certainly result in even more complicated situations; or keep the marks hidden and accuse the swordsman for not trusting your word, leaving him suspicious and possibly burning all the bridges that could have led to friendship. After Audun you really didn't want to lose another friend, but did you really want to damage Loki's trust in you not telling anyone about the bruises, especially after the remarks he had made? He had been hurt or betrayed in the past by those who he trusted. Could you really re-open his old wounds?  
But maybe you didn't need to show them at all... Maybe a request was enough. 

“Please don't tell anyone.” 

“Show me.” 

Apparently not. 

“Brant-” 

“Show me the bruises, and tell me again that he won't hurt you. Take off your scarf and look me in the eyes when you speak those words.” His eyes were dark, almost furious; yet his anger was not aimed at you. 

Your fingers slowly moved up. His gaze didn't allow you to look away. Your heart was beating a little too fast for your liking as you unwound the shawl and pulled it down, revealing the sore spots to the swordsman – and judging from his reaction they looked as bad as you thought; maybe even worse.  
His hand came up but hovered halfway for a while, before falling back to his side. He opened his mouth to speak but you were faster. 

“I trust him.” 

He shook his head in disbelief, and sadness crept into his eyes. “I've seen my sister with those bruises. I've seen her shop for shawls because she knew she would come home with fresh marks on her neck. Every time I looked at her, her eyes assured me that it was fine, that she was fine, and that she loved him. It was a delusion, masterly spun by a manipulative bastard, and I couldn't save her.” His voice had grown so soft, so fragile. 

“Did she...” you cautiously inquired, leaving the sentence unfinished but obvious. 

“No. I killed him before he could lay another finger on her, but he had already managed to stab her. He took away her ability to have children. The local healer saved her life but he couldn't do anything to give that what she wanted most back to her; depression has taken hold of her and she rarely ever leaves the house. I just wanted for her to be happy -” He stopped, taking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

Within seconds you had made your decision. 

“Do we pass your village on the way to our final destination?” 

He opened his eyes again, glancing your way with a frown. “Yeah, but-” 

“Take me to her.” 

He wasn't sure how to respond. 

“Take me to her once we get there. I can't work miracles, yet I will do whatever I can.” 

“Is – are you -” he cleared his throat and pulled himself together. “Do you really want to do that for me? For my sister?” 

You nodded, wrapping the long piece of cloth around your neck again. “I can't promise it will work, but at least I can try. My magic should count for something, right?” You stood, offering him your hand and pulling him to his feet. “I will need you to do something for me in return, though.” 

“Whatever you want-” 

“Don't tell anyone about the bruises.” 

He shot you a hurt look, and you knew he only cared for your safety, but you sent him a reassuring smile nonetheless. “I trust my instinct, and up until now it has never failed me. If, one day, it does, it will be my fault and mine alone. Not yours, not anyone's – mine; and I will take responsibility for it. Let me do this my way, please. Warn me if you must, or yell at me when you deem it necessary, but keep this between us.” 

He gave a solemn nod, answering your smile with a hesitant one of his own. “All right, I will trust you in your judgment; just know that I am here if you need me. All of us are – except maybe Einer, he's a bit of a dick sometimes.” 

You laughed softly. “I'll keep that in mind.” 

And with that the conversation was done and the two of you walked back to the others. You chatted with the soldiers for a while, Brant turning the conversation away from you and toward lighter subjects whenever you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was a good man with a gentle spirit, and you were glad you hadn't lost his companionship yet. A while later you made your way over to the princes and accidentally overheard their conversation. 

“She will be fine, as long as she thinks more carefully before she acts.” His voice was sharp, and somehow you got the feeling that Loki knew you were listening. “She needs to stop spending her energy on others and rest.”

Thor nodded. “It won't be long before we reach the first village, a full day at most, and we will be able to rest in a proper bed. We must ride another few hours today to make sure they don't catch up to us, but at least she will not have to ride herself.” It was then that the golden-haired man noticed you as well, sending you a warm smile. “Take good care of her, Loki. We mustn't lose our best healer yet.” He bowed his head lightly, fondness in his eyes, and you felt a soft blush creep onto your cheeks at the hearing of his praise. He walked off, spurring his men into action with a few loud commands.

 

“Come.” 

You turned around and watched Loki mount Egil with a few elegant movements. He offered you his hand and, seemingly without effort, pulled you up to help you take your spot in front of him.  
Your heart skipped a beat when your back hit his chest and you swiftly straightened your spine. Why did he allow you to ride with him? Shouldn't he hate you or at least think of you as a nuisance after all that had happened because of you? 

“Scared to be so close?” 

A shiver went down your spine. “Must you always whisper such accusations in my ear?” 

He chuckled, and a few heartbeats passed before you decided to speak again.

“Not scared, just... troubled.” He kept quiet, waiting, but you hesitated. Then: “Let me take some of the pain back. You don't have to bear it on your own.” 

The party started moving and slowly the ten of you left the clearing behind. 

“I have endured worse. There is no need for you to take it back.”

“And that is supposed to stop me from worrying?” You replied incredulously, frustration making your stomach twist. How was that a good thing?

But he didn't respond. Minutes flowed together in silence, and after a while you accepted that no words would follow. He was just as stubborn, if not worse, and you knew he wouldn't give in no matter how much you nagged or begged, finally realising how infuriating your own behaviour must have been at times.  
Your irritation didn't last long, however, as your mind was too tired to hold onto it. The soft rocking of Egil's steady tread lulled you to sleep, eyelids growing heavy, and slowly the world around you faded as you leaned back against the armoured yet surprisingly comfortable chest of the prince sitting behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit the 100 kudos and 1000 views! Thank you all so much for reading this, for leaving kudos or for writing a comment; I appreciate it all so much ♡


	9. IX

You shut your eyes harder, tried to block out the light that beckoned you back to the realm of the awake, but to no use. The dreams had drained away, your mind was clear and rested and now begged you to pay attention to a very strange but welcome sensation.  
After blinking a couple of times you suddenly realised you were still seated on Egil and for a fraction of a second you were certain you were going to fall off, gravity already sinking in your heart and pulling your stomach down – until you noticed what your mind had been trying to point out: 

Loki's arm was wrapped firmly around your waist. 

You pushed the blush away with all your might. This wasn't weird – apart from the fact you had fallen asleep while riding a horse – and he had just put his arm there to keep you from gliding sideways. You quickly straightened your back so that he wouldn't have to deal with your weight anymore and yawned loudly behind a hand to announce your awaking.  
The man behind you was smirking, you could sense it like one could sense spying eyes, but you ignored him much like you ignored everything that was awkward about this whole situation. 

Yet when he let go of your waist and took hold of the reins again, it somehow felt like a loss. 

 

Your hand went up to the shawl around your neck. You didn't understand him at all. He was a paradox, his actions contradicted themselves, and all his words seemed to hide away whatever he truly wanted to say. But you didn't understand yourself, either. You wondered if anyone did. 

“How is your neck.” 

It was a statement, not a question, spoken without emotion yet also without any edge to his voice. 

“Just sore, nothing a bit of magic can't suppress.” 

There was no indication whether your answer had been satisfactory or not. You decided not to mention your back, but instead silently focused a bit more of your magic on it, and for a moment you wondered if, had prince Loki's chest been bare, the coolness of his skin would have been soothing – but you quickly pushed the thought away and moved your attention back to the other thing that was still bothering you. 

“How about you?” 

“My neck?” He replied in acted confusion, an undertone of playfulness to his voice. If he could joke around then he must be doing quite all right, you thought with a sigh, and rolled your eyes. 

“You know what I'm talking about.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“It will be gone in a few hours.” 

You nodded, knowing he wouldn't let you do anything about it. You had thought about sneakily absorbing a bit back, but you were sure he would notice; and you didn't want to risk him getting angry at you in front of Brant. 

Loki had had it worse, he had said – but what? What could have been worse than the feeling of all your insides decaying, all the pain of a horse compressed into a single Asgardian body? And how could he still be alive after something so unfathomably gruesome? You had heard of cases where people had died because their minds simply couldn't handle the torture – and you had nearly been one of those very cases if Loki hadn't stopped you and had taken most of the burden. 

Is that why he had saved you? To keep you alive just so you could heal his wounds once more? Or had you been able to get through to him? Did he trust you, then? Or was it his way of repaying his debt? You saved his life, he saved yours – no one owed the other anything anymore. Could he truly be that fearful of trust, even after you had spectacularly proven your point by nearly getting choked to death?

Or maybe had you convinced him of the exact opposite? Had you, by letting him injure you, shown that trusting people will indeed get you hurt? You hadn't thought about it like that before, and suddenly the whole thing you had been confident about seemed to crumble in front of your eyes. Sure, you might have proved that you trusted him; but hadn't you shown how you had been willing to suffer for that? Was that not what he was afraid of?  
Or was it the mental damage rather than the physical wounds he feared? 

You were completely lost. This man was as much of a mystery as he had seemed at first sight; the typical tall, dark, mysterious stranger that little girls got warned for since the first time they had bled. Yet it was so different from that – which only made your confusion stronger. His men had been shocked to hear the raven-haired prince laugh, and wasn't that much of a shock on its own? Did he really laugh that rarely for it to become a strange phenomenon? Could you ask Thor without seeming like an intrusive, nosy, and plain rude person? You had so many questions, though. It wasn't like you could ask Loki himself and be like 'so what did you go through to make you act like such an arse?' without unleashing his anger over you – honestly you would probably react the same if someone asked you that – and you didn't want to bring back any of the memories he might have been trying to repress for a while. 

Maybe you just had to be patient. It was quite a long journey after all, and you weren't sure how long you were going to stay at the final destination – if you were going to stay there after all. Thor had mentioned how they could get themselves a different healer there; and so you were probably allowed to turn back the moment you arrived, but you weren't sure about that yet. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see places, to travel across unknown lands and to visit villages you had never even heard of; so how would you be able to turn back so soon? 

A buzzing feeling was starting to rise in your head again. Too much thinking over things that you couldn't solve anyway. Things that didn't need solving yet – or at all. 

You let out a sigh, when suddenly a sound reached your ears. It was distant but clear, and your heart reacted immediately. Danger. 

Without thinking you reached forward and gingerly brushed your fingertips over Loki's hand to get his attention, and you could feel him straighten his back in response. 

“Something is wrong,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. 

Loki wordlessly commanded Egil to ride up to Thor's painted steed. “They have caught up with us.” 

Thor nodded, brought the fingers of one hand to his lips, and whistled three notes; to which his men immediately reacted. 

“Hold on to the reins,” Loki murmured softly into your ear and wrapped one hand around your middle again, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks, but you did as you were asked and took the leather into the palms of your hands. He bent forward a bit and you moved with him, heart beating fast, and suddenly Egil sped up. 

Faster, faster, yet faster; until the wind nearly howled past your ears and the sound of hooves galloping over the forest floor blocked out any thoughts. The soldiers moved as one with their steeds nearly synchronised as they maneuvered between the trees. You felt invincible, adrenaline rushing through your body as you forgot about the enemy for a second – until an arrow shot past your face. Loki's grip around your waist tightened for a moment and at the same time flash of green light caught your attention from the corner of your eye; you couldn't see what it was but you felt the prince's magic swirl almost violently. Another arrow missed its target and Thor whistled again, urging everyone into an even quicker pace. 

Apparently you had noticed them in time as they had not managed to fully catch up nor advance, giving the party a head start. With all your might you hoped no one would get hurt, that no one would be lost, and that you would be able to get away soon. But what if they did catch up? What if they managed to surround you? Would you have to -

“Stay focused.” 

You nodded curtly and gathered your resolve. This was not the time to lose it. You needed to keep your head clear, think fast, act fast, and stay unharmed - but fate had other plans. 

Another arrow shot past and you moved one arm in front of your face in reflex, yet not a fraction of a second later you pulled it back with a loud cry. Blood welled up from a deep cut and ran down your skin, dripping down onto the saddle, and you could feel the poison enter your veins. You quickly set your magic to work to heal the split flesh; yet you wouldn't be able to do anything about the toxins in your bloodstream. You ignored Thor's worried calls, Ignored Loki calling your name. You needed to concentrate. 

It burned, seared, and you could feel it work its way to your heart. This was quick stuff. You trusted Loki to keep a firm hold of you and let go of the reins all together, using your free hand to open your shoulder bag, pinch open the box inside, and take out a bottle to scan the label.  
Not this one.  
Not this one either.  
A bit of this – you popped out the cork, kept it between your fingers, and shook some of the powder onto the closing wound before putting the cork back in and nearly throwing it back into the bag. Your hand was starting to tremble yet there was still one more ingredient you needed, and within seconds you had opened that bottle as well and dumped the contents into your mouth, chewing quickly. Your muscles had connected where they had been separated and your skin was slowly merging together again. 

The burning didn't fully cease yet you had neutralized enough of the poison for it to become nearly harmless, and your built-up resistance would take care of the rest. Once the cut had been fully healed you turned your magic inward and repaired all that had already been damaged. 

Yet if you were to be shot again, you didn't know if you would make it. 

 

Luckily the arrows seemed to come less frequently, and after a while stopped coming at all.  
They had given up. 

Thor whistled two short notes and the men steered their horses closer. 

“We need to put more distance between us and our pursuers before we can stop to rest,” he boomed to get over the sound of the galloping horses, “we should arrive in Torp in four hours at most.” 

 

 

After about half an hour they had slowed their horses to a more energy-conserving pace that allowed the tough creatures to keep going for a while, and without any words being spoken you continued on your journey through the woods. Only when the village was just two hours away and a quick stop was made to take some sustenance did you allow yourself to think about what had just happened. It had seemed like the arrows had been aimed at Loki specifically, judging from the angle and distance at which they flew past – but why not Thor? Wasn't he the heir of the throne, and wouldn't killing him first make more sense than killing his younger brother?

The raven-haired prince got off of Egil's back and offered you his hand as you slid down as well – though far less elegantly – before keeping hold of it and lifting your arm so as to take a closer look.

“I healed it already,” you stated, trying to gauge what the look in his eyes could be. 

He let go of your hand. “Magic cannot fix poison,” he stated back, just as dryly. 

“I neutralized it with the ingredients I took with me. There's not much left, but now that I know the specifics of the poison they use I can buy the right herbs in the next town.” 

“It took you a while.” 

“Not long enough to let it kill me.” 

It seemed like there was more he wanted to say, like there were sentences curled up inside his lungs that he wanted to come out but held back consciously. You wondered if you would ever understand this man at all. Your stomach interrupted your thoughts with loud rumbling.

“Anyway, I'm going to find something to eat. I'll be back in a moment.” 

“Here.” 

You turned around again and watched him pick up a rock with a frown on your face, until a haze of green flashed over it and switched it for an apple. The look in his eyes changed to one of pure mischief and a sly, boastful smirk spread on his thin lips. You scanned his eyes with distrust for a moment before taking the piece of fruit from his hand and examining it. Had he really turned the mud-covered stone into a clean, fresh-looking apple, or was it just a trick? You held it against the scattered evening light that fell through the canopy, trying to figure out whether it was still a rock in disguise or truly what you hoped it to be. When nothing indicated any sort of deception you brought it to your mouth and slowly sunk your teeth into the succulent flesh, and as your eyes fell shut you missed how Loki's neck tensed for only a fraction of a second, and how his eyes lingered on your lips. 

Your whole body wanted to sigh in relief. Fruit had been quite rare in Blacktree, where the people mostly lived off of self-grown vegetables and self-caught fish. It didn't grow on the slopes around town, nor further into the woods, and getting it from one village to the other without ruining it had proved to be quite the difficult – and expensive – task. Many traders just stopped trying. So you didn't really care that the juice ran down your chin; it was definitely worth the awkwardness. 

You opened your eyes again and smiled like you had discovered a whole new world, like you had found a treasure so great your heart couldn't contain it on its own, and wiped the liquid off your chin with the back of a hand. 

“This is amazing- how did you do it? Can you teach me? I cannot believe you just turned stone into fruit.” You suddenly understood what you had asked and whom you had asked, and quickly your smile faded to an apologetic frown. “Sorry, I, uh – I'm – I understand if it's too much of a burden -” How could you have asked a prince to train a peasant girl? Had you really forgotten how low you stood in status, compared to a man who resided in palaces and spoke with kings? 

Yet his smirk spread to a grin. “But what would I get in return?” 

Your stomach twisted. Was there still some poison left in your system? You ignored it, quickly trying to come up with a witty response instead. 

“How does saving your life sound when you act foolish enough to get yourself injured again?” You shot him a glare, taking another bite of the apple, but he shook his head.

“That is something you have already sworn to do. No, I need something else.” 

You thought for a moment. What could you possibly offer him besides your medical knowledge? You didn't have money but he knew that perfectly well, nor did you have political power or great fighting skills. Your mind worked at full speed, yet nothing came to mind. 

“I cannot think of anything you would deem worthy. How about I owe you one?” 

“That is quite the debt you're setting yourself up for, village girl,” he chuckled, his gaze forbidding you to look away, “but I will accept your offer. You owe me.” 

The way he spoke those last three words, the intense stare, your stomach twisted again. Maybe it was fear or dread, not poison, that had taken hold of you. You took another bite to distract yourself. What was the worst that could happen, anyway? And maybe he would forget about it before you returned home, or maybe you would do something that evened it out, like saving his life again. There was no use thinking about it for now, so you pushed the thoughts away. 

“So... when do we start?” 

“When we arrive in Torp. Now get back on, we're leaving again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly hate begging for kudos and especially comments, but like all writers I am extremely self-conscious about my writing and I appreciate comments more than you can possibly imagine. They really keep me going, whether they are constructive criticism or just a simple sentence about an opinion on the chapter or fic. Please feel free to tell me anything you think, from lesser parts to parts you liked most, so I know how my writing is received. Feedback really means the world to me ♡


	10. X

The sun had already drowned beneath the horizon when finally the trees parted and made way for farmland. Fields of wheat spread on your left whereas corn rose on the right, and as you rode past the few houses scattered around you spotted vegetables like carrots and potatoes being grown as well. In the near distance stood what looked like a small town centre on its own: you saw a blacksmith, a bakery, an inn, and a pottery store, built in a semi-circle around a well. To your slight surprise there seemed to be no-one outside.

“Is it a trap?” you whispered as you scanned the shadows for any movements. 

“Don't be ignorant.” 

You rolled your eyes but trusted his word, waiting for him to get off once the party stopped. Everyone secured their horses to the wooden beam in front of the inn and took care of them, soft chatter slowly rising and smiles appearing on faces again. When everyone was done, Thor called his men together, announcing the plan for the next couple of days. 

“We will stay here for two nights to regain our strength and to let our horses rest. Do not go outside alone but take someone with you; our enemy will most likely catch up in the time we're here and might attempt an attack, so always be focused and prepared to fight. From now on we will only ride during the day and over paved roads. The next village is only one day away, where we will only make a quick stop to replenish our food supply and rest.” He smiled brightly at his men. “Drink, but do so in moderation. The guarding shifts continue.”

As the soldiers took care of the steeds, Thor, Loki, and you entered the inn to claim and pay for the rooms you would be needing. The moment you stepped inside a wave of sound hit you in your face – men and women were talking loudly, the clinking of mugs and cutlery rang through the air, and laughter filled any space left inside the large, table-filled room; a typical tavern cacophony. As the three of you walked over to the bar in the back you watched one man punctuate his story with grand gestures, another crying with one of his friends awkwardly comforting him, and a third rolling the dice for a game you didn't understand. Judging from the amount of people this was either everyone that lived in the entire town, or a mixture of villagers and passers-through. The latter seemed more logical to assume. 

 

“I'm very sorry, but we don't have any double rooms left – we've got only two triple rooms that haven't been taken yet, and one room meant for four. Lot's of people coming through, y'know?” 

“I understand,” Thor responded. “We will take all of them, then.” He turned to Brant, who had joined you mere seconds ago. “Loki, ____, and I will take one triple room, tell the others to divide themselves over the other two rooms.” 

Brant nodded, met your gaze for a moment, and turned around to go inform the others. You weren't quite sure what to think either. Wasn't sharing a room with a man some kind of a taboo? Let alone two of them? Not to mention that your were of a much lower social class... But if the princes were okay with it then surely it wasn't that big of a deal, right? Not knowing what to say you simply kept quiet, ignoring the strange look the man behind the counter gave you, and followed the two upstairs. 

The smell of ale and pasties protruded the air even here, but it was quite welcome as it reminded you a bit of home. It had only been a day since you had left and yet you longed for your own bed, for the scent of parchment mixing with herbs and wood, and for one of those well-read books to be within your hands again. You knew the feeling would probably fade over time, though. You just needed to get used to travelling. 

Thor opened the door and the three of you stepped inside, scanning the interior. To you, this was a bit more luxurious than your chamber in Blacktree, but you guessed that this was probably the plainest bedroom the princes must have ever slept in - apart from the dormitory. When you checked their faces, however, neither seemed to care, and Loki let himself fall backwards onto the creaking bed. 

He was probably too tired to teach you about magic now, and if you had to be honest with yourself so were you. You climbed on the bed and sat with your back against the wall, letting out a sigh and closing your eyes. One day on the road and already so much action. Had you underestimated the dangers? Audun's words came to mind. 

What if you didn't come back? 

You had refrained from thinking about him, about the things he had said, but your brain wouldn't allow you to push it away any longer. You had lost a friend; and quite frankly it had been the only true friend you had ever had. You wanted to cry as if he had died, as if you would never see him again, you wanted to cry for all those memories and all those bursts of laughter, for the mischief, for the adventures in the woods and for the part of you that had silently believed the two of you could never grow apart - yet no tears came. How did people deal with this? Should you have noticed his feelings sooner? Should you have lied? Should you have said you loved him back? Did you even know what love felt like? And what had you done for him to love you? Why had he possibly loved you? 

“Stop thinking, village girl.” 

You turned your head to look at the man lying only a few steps away, his eyes still closed. “How did you-” 

“Your magic. Keep it under control.” 

You were silent for a few seconds. “I do not know how.” 

He opened his eyes and glanced your way without moving his face, then shut them again. “We will start with that tomorrow.”

Thor spoke up as well. “If anything is bothering you, you may tell us.”

You softly shook your head. “I think it's something I need to figure out myself.” 

He nodded. “So be it.” 

It was silent again and you concentrated on the gentle swirling of your magic. How were you to keep it inside? You moved your focus to prince Loki, only to notice how you couldn't feel his magic at all. Was it like an invisible wall? Or more like muting it? Could you still feel his magic if you reached out with your own?

“Stop that,” Loki commanded, voice harsh, and you immediately stopped whatever you had been doing. 

“My apologies, prince Loki,” you quickly murmured.

Thor just sighed. “I'll be downstairs if you need me.” 

 

Silence stretched onward and after a while you started to think he had fallen asleep, giving you the courage to glance his way again. His eyes were closed and his expression was almost peaceful – almost. Convinced his mind had drifted off you stood, walked over to the mirror on the opposite wall, and undid the shawl around your neck. Deep blue fingerprints were starting to turn an even deeper purple. You brought your fingertips to your throat, softly brushing over the marks. It didn't hurt. You had healed the cause of them, much like you had done with the bruises on your back, but you wondered if they looked the same. You shot a look over your shoulder, waiting a moment, watching the prince's closed eyes intently, until you had convinced yourself that yes, he truly was asleep, and yes, it was safe to take a look. 

You listened for a few seconds, but when no footsteps came up the stairs you pulled your shirt over your head and held it in front of your linen-wrapped chest as you turned your back to the mirror. Most of the skin on and around your shoulder blades had discoloured, and you wrinkled your nose at the ugly sight of it. You turned around, quickly put your shirt back on, and wrapped the shawl around your neck again. The golden specks in your eyes caught your attention before you could walk away, however, and you moved your face closer to the reflective surface to study them better – you hadn't had a mirror this clear before. You pulled your lower eyelid down with a finger and turned your face, all while keeping eye contact with your reflection. Was it a symptom of a weird disease you hadn't yet read about? Or had it something to do with _that_? Had your biological mother had it? Or your father? 

Your eyes moved away from your own gaze and slowly scanned the rest of your face. Your lips, your nose, your eyebrows, your cheeks, your jaw. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ears. Had Audun fallen in love with how you looked? Or with your personality? Both? You looked more intently, searching. You had never thought of yourself as really beautiful or anything. Just... normal. As pretty as a village girl could be. There was often mud or dirt on your face and leaves in your hair, especially after gathering ingredients out in the woods; you smelled like the herbs you worked with and the flowering plants in the windowsills, and your hands were rough from the constant work.  
You rose your hand and studied your palm and fingers. Was your body one to fall in love with? With everything being as it was? Had Audun _wanted_ you? The thought was so weird that you quickly repressed it before any mental images could arise. 

You let out a sigh and let your hand fall back to your side. 

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't he just have loved you as a friend? You shook your head. You didn't understand him, or apparently anyone or anything for that matter. By Yggdrasil, you felt so incredibly stupid. 

You turned around, only to jump in shock. Loki was studying you, sitting with his back against the headboard, face neutral but gaze intense again. You involuntarily set a step back. 

“I thought you were asleep-” You averted your eyes, wondering how much he had seen. 

He chuckled. “Are you afraid to be alone with me when I'm awake?” 

You sighed again. “How many times do I have to tell you I'm not as afraid of you as you think-” 

“Oh, so you _are_ afraid of me,” he smirked, standing up from the bed and slowly making his way over to you, like a predator stalking closer to its prey. His glance was dark, his posture terrifying, and you set another step back; until your hand felt the mirror behind you. 

“W-well I must admit that you do emit some rather creepy vibes at times – uhm much like now – but I'm not like _afraid_ afraid, or- ” 

“Not so eloquent any longer, hm?” 

He stopped mere inches before you, smacking his hands against the wooden wall on either side of the mirror, and you flinched. The blood pumping through your veins was saturated with adrenaline. He was about a head taller yet it felt as if he was towering over you, bending and blocking out all the light from the torches, and your stomach twisted again as his breathy laugh ran down your face. 

“Aren't you going to call Thor to come and save you from the monster?” 

A sharp sound shot through the air, and only after a second did you register what you had done: the spot where your hand had hit his pale cheek was turning a light tint redder. This was it, you had crossed the line, but there was no way back. You just stared directly into his eyes without blinking. 

And he laughed. He... laughed. 

You stared at him, eyes scrunching up ever so slightly in disbelief. He wasn't going to hit you back? Wrap his hands around your neck?  
Yet instead he retracted his arms and set a step back, a large grin on his face. 

“Apparently you don't need Thor to save you.” 

“I don't need anyone to save me,” you replied sharply. He rose his hands to the hight of his chest, nodding once as if to say 'all right, all right', and kept that smirk like he just couldn't get rid of it. “Now if you'll excuse me I am going to get something to eat.” You shot him a last venomous glance and walked out of the door, nearly slamming it shut behind you. 

Once you were outside, however, you stopped and tried to calm your racing heart by taking a few deep breaths. Leaving the prince alone probably wasn't a good idea but right now you couldn't care less, and so you walked down the stairs to the bar, setting your feet down a little more forcefully than you liked to admit. 

Your eyes immediately spotted some of the soldiers sitting at a table and you quickly made your way over, the pressure leaving your heart at their warm welcome. 

“Good evening, miss!” Jari greeted you energetically, raising his jug. “Would you care for a drink?” 

“Gods, yes please,” you sighed with a smile, and the men laughed. Within the minute an ale-filled mug of your own was placed on the table in front of you, and you downed it under loud cheering of the soldiers. 

“Yer lass can hold 'er drink well!” another man shouted, and they gave another cheer. 

A smile spread on your face. All the working with and testing of medicine had allowed your body to build up quite the resistance against poison, which had also given you enough time to neutralise the toxins from the arrow; and, seeing as there had been quite the drought a few years ago, you had had your fill of alcohol as well. Drinking it too fast or too much in a short amount of time could probably still get you pretty drunk, but once again, you didn't really care right now. Your head was filled with worries and you needed to wash them away, if only for tonight. 

You had only been drunk once before; when the drought had started and there had been nothing to drink but ale. Good thing Illasias and Medhea had had the perfect remedy for it. This also meant that, if any of the men got alcohol poisoning, you could have them healthy and energetic within a few hours. If you were sober yourself, of course. 

But after one drink came another, and another, and the cheering was just what you needed instead of physical intimidation and accusations of fear and distrust. You drank Loki out of your system, and laughed loudly with the amused men. 

“I think you've had enough, my lady,” Rangvaldr laughed after a while, putting a hand on your shoulder and taking away your ale. 

You sent him a pout but nodded. How could you ignore the wisdom of such a wise-y man? Very wise. Seemed that way, anyway. You stood, letting him guide you through the tavern and up the stairs as the others wished you good night. So many steps- how many stairs again? 

He knocked on the door, almost visibly relieved when it was Thorsk that opened it and not Lokus – Lukas? But... hadn't he agreed with you when you said not to judge too quickly? You couldn't remember. Everything was pretty hazy. Thorp chuckled and took you over from Rangevlangethingy whatever his name was, and guided you to the bed. 

Lorsi chuckled as well and you shot him a look but nearly stumbled, causing an awkward blush to rise to your cheeks - yet you made it to the bed unharmed and nearly threw yourself onto the mattress, crawling underneath the blanket with surprising swiftness. Your eyes fell shut within a moment, and not much later you were absolutely knock-out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts and feedback!


	11. XI

You awoke slowly and in complete darkness. Had you slept through an entire day? No, you could feel the large amount of alcohol in your system. Still night, then. 

Even though the entire room was spinning you managed to push yourself up in a sitting position, a soft groan rolling from your throat, and you quickly set your magic to work on repairing your liver and other afflicted parts of your body. You waited a moment for the heavy nausea to lessen before bending over the side of the bed and grabbing your shoulder bag. You almost threw up. Your head was pounding like a blacksmith on an anvil and your lips felt like they hadn't touched water in years, not to mention that your insides were churning with every shallow breath you took. 

You tried to push yourself back up, but it was harder than you had anticipated and you needed a moment to catch your breath and to regain the strength in your arms with eyes closed and lips pressed together in a tight line – partially to prevent the contents of your stomach to be released over the floor, and partially to keep back the growls of discomfort so as not to awake the two men present between the suddenly very confining walls of the Inn's bedroom. However, when you finally managed to gain control you moved back up, and as you did so you met the gaze of the raven-haired prince. 

Your breath hitched. 

The moonlight reflected in his eyes, made his skin look so smooth and soft, and enveloped him in a illuminating sheen that seemed almost magical. His beauty was otherworldly, and you couldn't look away. Since when did you think of him as handsome? Yet... There was nothing wrong with admiring someone's beauty, right? Audun was pretty handsome as well, and most of the soldiers were quite good-looking too, so adding prince Loki to the list wouldn't make a difference, right? You were still too drunk to think clearly. You were never drinking that much ever again. 

You quickly averted your gaze and rose into a sitting position, searching your bag for some things to get rid of the horrid nausea. Today would be a perfect day to go gather some herbs in the surrounding woods, maybe even find a few new ones if you were lucky, but you pushed the thought away as you stuffed your mouth with greenery. You chewed the leaves slowly and waited for your upset stomach to settle down, then put the unused excess back into the bottle and returned it to its original spot. There were still some hours to go before the sun rose. You lay back down – facing away from the fair-skinned prince – and closed your eyes to drift back off to sleep, hoping the next awakening wouldn't make you want to jump out of one of the small windows or smash your head against the wall.

 

 

When you opened your eyes again it was morning, and you turned over on your other side only to come face to face with Loki again - your heart skipping a beat. A frustrated sigh slipped from your lips.

“Do you never sleep, prince Loki?”

He smirked. “I do not need it.” 

Your cheeks grew a touch redder, brows slightly pinching into a frown. “So... you have been staring at me all night?” 

He laughed, mischief creeping into his green-blue eyes and his voice turning a shade darker. “Would you like me to?” 

What kind of an answer was that? You rolled your eyes at him and sat up, a soft groan spilling from your lungs as you moved your hand to your forehead. So much for your hope. You ignored the prince's smirk as best as you could and got out another dose of leaves to chew on. Your frown faded as the pressure inside your head slowly disappeared, allowing you to properly wake up, and you mentally prepared yourself for another day. 

 

One glance to the right told you that Thor was still fast asleep, like a golden bear in mid-hibernation. They truly were the most contradictory pair of brothers you had ever met.  
Glad that at least one of you was able to properly rest you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood, but your legs gave way and soon your bum hit the mattress. A soft curse later you tried again, more carefully this time, until a hand moved into your field of vision. You didn't need to look up to know to whom it belonged. 

“I do not understand you at all,” you sighed softly, but took his hand anyway. “One moment you intimidate me with your hight and posture, the next you offer me a hand to keep me standing. Why are you so set on confusing me?” 

He smiled – not a smirk or a grin, a smile, and you wondered how hungover you truly were, but there was no mischief in his eyes this time and no secrets hidden in the twitch of a lip. “I like seeing your reactions.” 

Was it the truth? You didn't know. Maybe that was just the way he was – changeable, unpredictable, kind yet dangerous at the same time. 

“Are the reactions of your men not enough?” 

He averted his gaze, but you had spotted the hint of sadness in his eyes before he turned his face towards the window. His voice didn't hint at it, however; he kept it perfectly playful. “Thor's half-wits don't even dare to come close.” He grinned, yet you could see through it this time. It was a layer of his defense. He met your gaze again, eyes squinting slightly in incomprehension. “Yet you even dare to fall asleep against me. That dragon must have taken away all your rational thinking.” 

Your heavy eyes grew slightly wider and his eyes responded by squinting a bit more. “So there _is_ a dragon.” 

“Dragons are part of fairy tales, only a child believes in them.” 

“Do not think you can lie to me, village girl,” his tone got sharper, “you cannot trick a trickster.”

“Find me the dragon you so confidently speak of, and I will believe the fairy tales myself.” You answered his gaze with a defiant one of your own, trying to keep your hands from forming fists and your knees from giving in. 

He stepped dangerously close again. “I heard your conversation with the boy.” 

You groaned, moving your fingers over your face. The light of the rising sun was too bright and every sound was too loud for you to deal with this right now. Couldn't this wait?

“Then you know I haven't 'visited the dragon' or appointed a new 'orator' as I said I would, because there is no dragon.” You put extra emphasis on the last few words, desperately hoping he would believe it and drop the subject. 

But he didn't. 

“Then why did your father mention it as well?” His voice had turned to a soft hiss and for a moment you prayed for Thor to wake up, until you remembered the very thing you had said yourself: you didn't need anyone to save you. You could handle this man on your own. 

“Why do you keep listening in on conversations? Surely a prince must know it is a rather rude thing to do,” you hissed back.

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh before anger started to burn in his eyes. “How dare you speak to me like that-”

“Because I was promised to be treated as if I were of the same status as you and your brother, and so I will act like it as well,” you interrupted him. “Do not speak to me as if I am not worthy of respect – I saved your life for Yggdrasil's sake -” you tried to keep your voice down, but your frustration was reaching boiling temperature and your headache wasn't getting any better. “I have not pried for your secrets, even when you told me you have had to endure worse pain than that of a dying horse – do you know how worried I was when you told me? How worried I still am? Why would anyone-, “ you cleared your throat.

“Anyway, I did not pry, and I shall not try to get it out of you now, either; but for the love of all that is good in this world please try and have some respect for me as well. Everyone has secrets – even towns and cities have their own secrets, and sometimes they must stay like that for a reason.” 

He scanned your face for a moment, and as you wondered if he was going to choke you again your hand unconsciously went up to touch your scarf. His eyes followed and, almost instantly, the anger began to flow out of him, out of his gaze and out of his posture. He leaned back a bit, not looking at you as he spoke. 

“You try to soften the death of a mindless creature by taking away its pain, and you worry about another one being hurt before.” He shook his head. “It is _me_ who doesn't understand _you_.” 

It felt as if there was more he wanted to say, needed to say, and so you waited, dazed yet patiently. You were right. He turned back to face you and you could see him try to hide the pain in his eyes, the sadness, but not fully succeeding; and your heart twisted. 

“How could you worry about a man who has bruised your neck and back, who has made you walk for hours merely to do your job, who has insulted you, intimidated you, frightened you -” He shook his head again, smiling in a way that showed perfectly how lowly he thought of himself. “Why do you keep saying you are not afraid of me when clearly you are, only to stay around and trust me? Shouldn't you be running away screaming, crying, calling me for what I am?” 

You set a step forward, closer – trying not to show how you feared your legs may fail to support you. 

“And what do you think you are, Loki? Because to me you are just a man who has been wronged before, though I do not know how, and who has accepted the way people see him as the person he is. I have only known you for about four or five days, but I know you're not inherently evil. You can't be.” 

You reached out but stopped your hand in mid-air, only to let it fall to your side again; yet you kept your eyes locked onto his. 

“You helped with picking berries, stopped me from overexerting myself, moved me to a bed when I had fallen asleep, allowed me to ride with you and kept me on the horse when I was too tired to stay awake. You took away the pain I had so foolishly absorbed and you even promised to teach me how to use my magic like you do. How could I run away screaming, crying; and what should I possibly call you if I did?” 

Your chest contracted painfully as you stared him directly in his eyes, seeing how he was trying to hold back tears and to hide all those emotions that wanted to reveal themselves. His magic was swirling through the room as he had lost control for a moment, had lost his composure. You lifted your hand with the palm facing up and smiled as you let your magic swirl together with his to soothe it, to calm it from wild waves and hurricane twists to gentle waters and stormless skies. 

“I know you don't trust me, and I must admit that you frighten me at times, but I will not just go away and leave you with the men who speak so foully of you. Your brother asked me to refrain from judging as he told me you were a good man at heart, though your actions often seemed to prove otherwise, and I'm glad he did. Because you are a good man, Loki, you must be, or you wouldn't have been so gentle with me at times.” 

You sent him a smile, soft and kind, hoping he would believe you. 

“I do not know how bad you think of yourself, but I must ask you to give yourself a chance as well. Be gentle with yourself as you have been with me. You are not a monster, not a villain; you are a man – a prince, so act like it.” 

His lips were lightly parted and the corners of his mouth were pulled down ever so slightly, his forehead frowned in a look of inner torment. His self-hatred was worse than you had anticipated, and you felt somewhat bad for confronting him so strongly with it. Maybe you should... would it be awkward? But he seemed like he needed it, and it had always worked to cheer your parents up.

You set the last step forward and softly wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder and ignoring the way your stomach twisted. 

He stood frozen for a moment, shocked, perplexed, maybe even petrified, until he gingerly lay his arms around you as well – careful as if he would break you, then tighter, until he had you wrapped up so tightly in the embrace it was getting hard to breathe. He rested his face in your neck and you could feel a tear slowly slide down your skin, so you closed your eyes and tightened your grip as well. He had truly needed it. 

 

Even though he was the main thing that kept you standing upright your lungs started to protest after a while, and you slowly let go. You lay your hands against his chest to softly push him away again. “I still need to breathe, Loki,” you whispered with a smile. He quickly retracted his arms and stepped back, averting his gaze as he tried to get himself together again. Maybe it was best to leave him be for a while. 

“I'll go get us some breakfast.” 

And so you quietly disappeared out the door and down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for everyone who expected some juicy stuff to happen, but this story is rather mild when it comes to dark shit. I know there's lots of dark Loki fics out there but I have decided to take a lighter route, which focuses more on the natural forming of bonds between people than on events that force people to become closer. Not to mention that it's a pretty long burn. So yeah, just so you know, not too much dark stuff in this fic!
> 
> I know Loki in the movies isn't afraid to show his emotions or to cry (take that scene where he finds out he's a Frost Giant for example) so I didn't make him hold back his feelings completely, though I have put more of an 'inhibitor' on it so to speak, to make it feel a bit more natural. I hope it worked!


	12. XII

You sat down a the bar and waited for the food to be done, casually chatting with the bartender about silly things such as the weather and the harvest. Your head had stopped pounding but the verbal 'fight' between you and Loki had drained a lot of your energy again, and you felt how your brain lay heavy inside your skull. People were just so tiring at times. Books, on the other hand, were the perfect solution; but the bartender took away your hope by admitting that there were few around. 

Soon the food was done so you thanked him, put one bowl in the crook of your elbow, and held the other two in your hands as you carefully maneuvered up the stairs. With a bit of awkward arm coordination you even managed to open the door, and you used your bum to push it shut behind you again before quietly announcing breakfast.

One glance to the left told you that Thor had awoken and was sitting on his bed, getting the sleep out of his eye with his fist. You set the bowl on the nightstand next to him, and wished him good morning with a smile. 

You regretted glancing to the right. 

Loki pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the bed he had claimed. You quickly averted your eyes. His other two wounds had almost fully healed and so there was no use in seeing him half-naked again; it was merely awkward now, especially in the situation you were in. You put his breakfast on the nightstand without even as much as acknowledging him and quickly sat down on your bed to work down your own. 

The three of you ate in silence until Loki, after putting on another shirt and finally his armour, announced he had things to do and took your bowls downstairs with him. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from reminding him of his promise. Of course he hadn't forgotten, you had reminded him of it less than half an hour ago, and he probably had better things to do than teaching a peasant girl his royal magic. Was it royal? Thor didn't seem to have it, though, and you did, so maybe the powers were granted to people at random? You would ask Loki later – for now, Thor's gaze pulled you out of your thoughts, and you answered it with your head slightly tilted to the side in an unspoken question. 

“Thank you.” He spoke with the most gratitude you had ever heard a person put in their voice, and his eyes were even more saturated than his words. 

“You heard it, then?” 

“I apologise for listening in,” he smiled so kindly it nearly hurt, “but I couldn't help myself. Loki needed that. He's not much of a hugger, or at least not with me, but he needs it sometimes. I'm glad he accepts your words.”

“Oh, so you saw that as well,” you mumbled as you tried to keep from blushing. Well, this wasn't embarrassing in the slightest. “I must admit that I hadn't realised myself how much I needed it too. Sometimes a hug is the only remedy for invisible wounds, I suppose.” 

Thor chuckled. “A healer of both body and mind.” 

“I am sorry for waking you.” You tried to change the subject. 

He waved your words away. “If any of my men had awoken me I might have been annoyed, but when I heard the things you said to my brother I only grew more confident of my decision to offer you a place in our midst.” 

He averted his gaze to the window, and the beams of sunlight seemed to intensify the golden colour of his locks. He truly looked like one of regal breeding. Not that you had seen anyone with royal blood before, but you were sure they would have been quite like Thor if you had. 

He met your eyes again. “If you'll allow me to be fully honest, I hope that our journey convinces you, in one way or another, not to go back to your village. Asgard could use someone like you.” 

Your eyes grew a bit wider. “I cannot give you my word for something so life-changing-” 

“Nor do I expect you to.” He smiled warm as ever. “It is something I hope for, not something I can demand. I merely want you to feel accepted and safe. Please know that you may join us in Asgard once our journey has come to an end, and that you will be welcomed with open arms.”

How were you to respond? But he stood and stretched, ending the conversation without expecting an answer. You hung your bag over your shoulder and walked over to the door when a last request reached your ears. 

“Please keep an eye out for my brother?” 

You nodded. “I will.” 

 

Even though the last thing you needed was more company and more talking, the prince had forbidden anyone to go out alone – even Loki, but you understood it was hard to force rules onto a man who could teleport – and so you moved downstairs in search for an unoccupied soldier. Stigr was the first you ran into; and quite literally at that. 

“Oh sorry, miss! I wasn't paying attention.” 

“Oh no, it's me who should apologise; especially since I need to ask for a favour.” You sent him a kind smile, and his guilt disappeared to make place for confusion. 

“A favour?” 

“I would like to take a walk through the woods, to search for plants I might be able to use, but as you know no one may go outside on their own. I was wondering if you had some time to spare?” 

His face lit up. “Of course, my lady! I would gladly accompany you on your walk.” 

 

The first few hours the two of you walked in relative silence; sometimes you showed him a plant and told him its name and what it could be used for, but most of the time there was little to say. The sun slowly disappeared behind stacking layers of clouds that seemed to grow a darker gray with every minute that passed, the wind picked up, and the first droplets of the fading day fell through the canopy and onto your heads. 

“Maybe we should turn back,” you suggested, and Stigr nodded. 

“There's been something I've been meaning to ask, though,” he averted his gaze for a moment, before returning it with confidence. “We heard a loud noise coming from your room this night. Did something happen? I understand it's not my place to ask, but we worry about you, miss, especially since you're in there with... And I know you said we shouldn't judge, but we can't help it. Did he...” 

You waited, but when he didn't finish his sentence you were still left in slight confusion as to what would follow. “Did he what?” 

He averted his gaze again. “Well, you know, try something?” 

You were still staring at him with no idea what in the realms he was getting at. “I'm sorry but I still don't quite understand. Try what?” 

A soft blush grew on the man's cheeks, and even though Stigr was mentally seen the youngest of all the soldiers it was still kind of ridiculous. What could make a grown man blush? 

“...To have his way with you, miss.” 

Ah. 

Your face turned red in an instant. “What has possibly led you to that conclusion?” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, quickly clearing your throat to get your voice back under control. “You forget that prince Thor was in the room as well – and besides, prince Loki wouldn't do that. I can't believe-” You shook your head again, your face feeling like it was burning so hot that any raindrops that fell on it would instantly evaporate. “No, no he hasn't tried to – I'm a peasant, for Yggdrasil's sake, why in the world would he even want to do that?”

Images came to mind of a pale chest, slender fingers, black hair and a dark glare in those green-blue eyes, and your stomach twisted – apparently the idea alone made you nauseous already.

“I'm really sorry for asking, miss, it's just that the others... We were worried.”

You weakly waved his apology away. “It's fine, just- just go tell the others that there's no need for them to worry about such,” you awkwardly cleared your throat again, “perverted things. If he tried anything – if anyone tried anything – I would knock them unconscious before they could even lay a finger on me.” 

He nodded, obviously finding the conversation just as awkward as you, and the two of you quickly returned to the inn as the sky came pouring down. 

 

Your room was empty. You had passed Thor on your way inside as he used the rain to wash the black out of his horse's coat and Loki hadn't returned yet, leaving the room to you and you alone. With a smile on your face and a content sigh slipping from your lungs you dropped your gathered herbs and your bag to the ground and let yourself fall backwards onto the bed. When was the last time you had been completely and utterly alone? At least since the men had barged into the shop, which was about five days ago, but even before then – when had you truly had time for yourself? 

You were kind of disappointed that there wasn't much to do with this time off: no books to read or things like that, and asking a soldier to train you to become better in sword fighting would destroy the whole purpose of spending your time alone. You didn't fancy going outside anyway, as the prospect of doing pretty much anything while being soaked wasn't really one you looked forward to; so you changed into a dry set of clothes, hung the other set by the fireplace, lit the wood on fire, and sat down in front of it to dry your hair as well. 

The warmth was soothing, and you were just about to drift off to sleep - when suddenly it vanished. With a frown on your face you moved closer to light it up again, but as soon as a few flames started to nibble on the wood, they extinguished; too abruptly for it to be natural. 

“Loki,” you warned, twisting your body to look behind you, but he wasn't there. Your frown grew even deeper. Yet when you turned back you let out a high-pitched yelp and fell backwards onto your bum. 

“Loki!” You shot him a stern look, but he knew it was acted.

The smirk on his face was mischievous as ever as he casually sat next to you by the fire. “Oh, did I startle you? My apologies, my lady.” He lay an arm across his chest and bent over a bit in imitation of a bow, his eyes not leaving yours. Your stomach was twisting again but you paid it no attention, instead you lifted your chin and started another attempt to light the fire – but with one movement of a slender finger all your efforts were once again undone. 

“Do you want me to catch a cold, my prince?” His neck tensed for a moment and his gaze darkened, causing your frown to deepen slightly in confusion. You chose to ignore that as well and rolled your eyes at him, trying once more to spark fire onto the wood. And, once more, it was gone within a fraction of a second. You threw your hands up and groaned in frustration. “Is this truly necessary?” 

“It is entertaining, I must admit,” he grinned, “but I'm trying to make you come up with a solution.” 

Your brows knitted together as you tried to figure out what in the worlds he meant. “Like setting you on fire instead? Maybe that will stop you from being such a-” You quickly stopped yourself from continuing and pressed your lips together in a tight line.

He chuckled. “I mean magic. Light the fire with your magic, and I will leave it on.” 

Great. Perfect. You had absolutely no idea how to do that. You turned to the wood and observed it like it was some kind of complicated riddle you needed to solve. Maybe you should touch it? You lay your hand on one of the blocks and concentrated, let your magic swirl around it. You could feel how there was still some energy stored inside the fibers – dead energy, if that was how one should call it, but energy nonetheless – maybe you could activate it somehow? Turn it into heat? But... how? You had only trained your magic to heal, not to make things combust – that would only spell disaster. Horrible images of fire and burning flesh shot through your head and you quickly suppressed them. But if you could control it like you could control your healing, surely there must be no harm in learning this? 

You focused again and closed your eyes. Wait... Maybe you could use friction? You let your magic flow past the stored energy and increased the speed – you could feel your fingers start to tingle. Was it really working? But when you opened your eyes it was not the result you had expected: the log had started to grow little twigs, tiny leaves slowly unfolding, and even tiny blossoms appeared. All right then. You glanced over to Loki, who seemed to be holding back a laugh. 

“It didn't work.” 

“Because you are doing it wrong, you oaf,” he replied, the laughter apparent in his voice, and you couldn't help but smirk yourself. He grabbed a smaller log from the pile, turning it around in his hand and examining it as he spoke. “Your magic consists of a kind of energy, different than from what is stored in your body but, as you already noticed, compatible. Right now you are giving both energy from your body and from your magic to the wood, causing it to heal and rejuvenate; the things you already know how to do. Try to stop that flow of your own energy outward and try to work with what is already there: your magic. It will cost you less effort.” 

“But how,” you murmured, until the wood in his hand suddenly burst into flames and disintegrated. It seemed so easy when he did it so nonchalantly. 

You lay your hand on the log again, now feeling your own energy mixed with that of its own within its fibers. Could you take it back? You tried to use the technique of absorbing pain and felt how the energy seeped back through your fingers and into the rest of your body, the wood creaking and splitting under your touch. But it still wouldn't light up. You consciously tried to hold back the energy of your body and let your magic do the work, letting it mix and rub against that of the fibers, until you could feel the energy respond –

Flames erupted from between your fingers. 

You pulled back with a soft yelp but you had been a tad too slow; the fire had burned your skin ever so slightly, and you cradled your hand in front of your chest. 

“Here.” 

You looked up, confusion in your eyes as you met his gaze, but you lay your hand in the one he offered without really thinking about it. 

“I can heal them, you know.” 

But he didn't respond. His fingers wrapped around yours and a coolness spread through them, soothing your burns and causing you to close your eyes in delight. When you opened them again, however, Loki's eyes had turned a bright red, and your heart skipped a beat. Was it a side effect of his magic? Yet... this didn't feel like magic.  
You glanced at his fingers again and noticed how they had taken on an icy shade of blue that faded towards his wrist, and turned his hand over to inspect the pattern of lines adorning it. You lifted your other hand and gingerly traced the design with your fingers. It still felt like him, like his skin, cool to the touch but not unpleasantly so and as soft as it had been before. How strange... 

You lifted your eyes to meet his again, your heart contracting at the telltale glance of someone waiting to be judged, waiting to be insulted, to be left alone again. Again? You squinted slightly, scanning more thoroughly, but what you saw amongst the self-hatred was indeed loneliness. He scanned your eyes as well, waiting, grip loosening as if he expected you to pull away; but you tightened your grip instead and smiled. 

“I think you might be expecting a bit too much of me if you want me to turn my skin blue and my eyes red as well,” you chuckled quietly, “and I do not think it will look as good on me as it does on you.” 

You let go of his hand and returned your own to your lap, letting your magic heal the burns you could barely feel anymore. There was disbelief in his eyes now, but also something else, something much more delicate, yet you couldn't quite put your finger on a word to describe it. 

Suddenly you realised you had been staring straight into his eyes for way too long than what was socially acceptable, and quickly looked away. “If you keep looking at me like a lost pup you'll convince me you are in need of yet another hug.” You tried to grin casually, but it probably looked pretty weird and awkward. “And wouldn't that burn your oh-so-evil reputation to the ground?” 

It was as if he had been called back to reality, like a wall slid in front of his emotions, and his gaze filled with that familiar mischief again as he opened his arms wide.

“My reputation will stay intact as long as it's only you who knows about it. Surely another hug cannot do any harm?” His voice was smooth and silvery, reminding you of his nickname. 

“Silvertongue,” you huffed, trying to keep your lips down in a stern expression, but it proved to be more difficult than you had thought. 

“It almost sounds like a pet name when you say it,” he teased, grinning as he saw a hint of pink appear on your cheeks. 

“If you want a pet name so badly then maybe you should keep acting like a pup. People love dogs.” 

“How about you, then?” His smirk was unbearable, and you averted your gaze with your chin held high. 

“I'm personally more of a cat person.” 

But you couldn't stop your lips from twitching upwards at his loud, genuine laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short talk with Thor, a slightly longer conversation with Stigr, and, most importantly, more interaction with Loki!


	13. XIII

You had spent the whole afternoon and evening causing blocks of wood to combust when Thor entered the room. As he noticed his brother spread on the floor, hands beneath his head and legs crossed, and you, on your knees with your hands holding a burning log, his brain visibly short-circuited. 

“Loki is teaching me how to set things on fire,” you explained with a grin, and the raven-haired prince's lips pulled up in a smirk as well. 

“Should I have knocked?” Thor responded with a bearded smirk of his own, laughing when your cheeks gained a shade of red. “As long as you two don't set the inn on fire it is fine by me. Anyway, I have come to get you for dinner, as I assume my brother hasn't brought you anything to eat.” He shot said brother a look. 

Loki sat up, the smirk not yet gone from his face. “Ah, I forgot that frail bodies need to eat regularly.” He let out a soft 'oof' when your fist made contact with his shoulder. 

“Be careful what you say, Silvertongue, or this frail body will set you on fire after all.” 

He chuckled. “Better keep practicing on those logs for another while, then, village girl.” 

You rolled your eyes but took his hand anyway, allowing him to help you up before making your way over to Thor and following him downstairs. 

As you dined with Thor and his soldiers – this time keeping track of the number of drinks you consumed – you suddenly noticed how your time with Loki hadn't really taken much of your energy; whereas sitting in a crowded tavern surrounded by yelling and cheering men seemed to rip your resolve to stay awake from your body. Your eyelids were growing heavy now that your stomach was content, and quite frankly you were impatiently waiting for the right moment to excuse yourself, even though it had merely been thirty minutes since you had joined them. It would have been different if it had only been Thor and his men, but the constant loud noises and never-ending movement around you was draining the leftover slivers of energy still present underneath your skin. 

You yawned behind your hand but made sure to do it loudly. “My apologies, but I must excuse myself. The day has taken its toll on me.” You smiled apologetically, shoving back your chair when the men had nodded and had all wished you good night, before swiftly maneuvering through the bar and darting up the stairs. 

When you blocked out the sound by closing the door behind you and resting your back against it you let out a sigh, waiting for the ringing noise in your ears to quieten. By the realms, those people were noisy. 

You glanced to the left. Loki was laying by the fireplace and you actually believed him to be asleep this time; but seeing as you had thought the same thing the last time you decided to check. His breathing was steady and his eyes were closed, and you couldn't feel his magic. Had he discovered a way to keep it inside of him when he was asleep? It made sense, seeing as those arrows had been aimed at him during the attack. If there was someone with magic out there who was trying to hunt him down as well, then sleeping without giving anyone a chance to track down his magic was a great advantage. 

A tiny smile made its way onto your lips. He looked so peaceful, so free of worry or hate or loneliness, and you regretted that you could not carry him to a more comfortable spot like he had done for you. So instead you improvised. You grabbed his blanked from his bed, carefully draped it over his lean body, and lit the wooden logs on fire – with your magic, of course. It became a little bit easier every time you did it, and excitement bubbled up inside of you. If you could accomplish something so different from your normal magic in such a short span of time, then a whole world of different kinds of magic was still out there, accessible. 

“Aren't you going to sing me a lullaby? Read me a story?” 

You let out a sigh. “I even checked if you were sleeping this time.” 

“They call me trickster for a reason.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you, trickster prince, but I don't think my singing will please you, nor do I know any stories by heart.” 

“Will you not even try?” He asked with feigned disappointment, the corners of his lips pulling upwards ever so slightly. “Not even when your prince demands it?” 

You sat down next to him, leaning backwards onto your hands and closing your eyes to take in the warmth of the fire. “Maybe if he asked nicely.” 

He snickered. “Oh, gentle lady, of fairest face and wittiest words, voice as sweet as the scent of flowers in spring; won't you honour me with a song?” 

You tried to fight the blush - his praise was a tease, after all – and huffed. “All right then, but I cannot promise it will sound good.” Your singing certainly wasn't bad, but it wasn't exceptionally great either. Just... average, you guessed, much like the rest of you. 

You averted your gaze to the moon visible through the window as you started the song you had often hummed when gathering ingredients in the woods. It was gentle like the breeze, clear like the water running down the mountain in brooks and streams, and kind, like an ode to nature itself and an expression of gratitude for all it had to offer. Memories resurfaced and a smile crept into your voice. 

When the last notes left your lips you turned your gaze back to Loki, your face growing red at the intensity of the look in his eyes - which were, of course, directly aimed at you. How long had he been staring? 

“Was it truly that bad?” You let out a sigh. “Well, it's your own fault-” 

“I like your voice.” 

You stared back at him for a moment before quickly turning your face away from him. Why was your stomach twisting like that? Why was the tone of his voice so sincere? Wasn't he the trickster, the liar, the man called Silvertongue? Why wouldn't he stop looking at you like that?

“Liar,” you whispered, but you believed him. “Anyway, I'm off to bed, and I suggest you do the same. We need to be well rested if we want to stay focused on the road tomorrow.” 

“What about my bedtime story?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I told you I don't know any.” 

“Then how about I tell you one.” 

His voice had softened, and a bit of the playfulness had drained away, causing you to look his way again. His gaze was distant, aimed at the ceiling yet seeing far beyond. You had to admit, it did make you a bit curious. After a few seconds of hesitation you slid down onto your back - a sign you were staying to listen. 

When you had settled into a comfortable position, he started to speak.

“Our realm is one of many – nine to be exact. There's Asgard, Vanaheim, Midgard, Nidavellir, Alfheim, Muspelheim, Svartaflheim, Nilfheim, and Jotunheim.” He waited a moment for it to settle, and you nodded, vaguely remembering reading something about it. “Asgard and Jotunheim have fought many times as Laufey, the king of Jotunheim, wanted more power. He invaded Midgard in the Battle of Tønsberg but Odin stopped him, and after a battle of great cost, managed to defeat him completely. He took their source of power, the Casket of Ancient Winters, but he also took something else.” 

You turned your head to look at him. This felt more like history than a bedtime story, but he had you engaged in it nonetheless. The way he spoke, his smooth, silvery voice on its own, it could make any story pleasing to the ears. 

“A newborn, abandoned and left to die. A Frost Giant. Laufey's son.” 

You turned onto your side completely now, a feeling of dread settling in your stomach as you suspected where this was going. 

“Odin took it back to Asgard, to the palace, and raised it like it was his own. He hoped that, one day, he could unite the two realms - but he didn't love his adopted son. The Jotunchild grew up in the shadow of his brother, the true offspring of the Asgardian king, who would one day claim the throne. But he found out, and, childish as he was, threw a tantrum that cost many their lives. He wanted to show the king that he was just as worthy.” He took in a deep breath, but still did not meet your gaze. “Even though he never truly wanted the throne he tried to seize it, to show he was to be respected like his brother. But it only made it worse. The king lost all hope to reunite the realms, and locked him up. Tortured him for the things he had done.” 

“Loki Laufeyson,” you whispered. 

Tears were starting to form in your eyes. This was Loki's story. Loki's youth. A tale of neglect and pain both physical and mental. Images flashed through your head; of a raven-haired boy, of the look in his young eyes – alone, unwanted, _hurt_. 

He finally turned his head to meet your gaze, surprise sneaking into his eyes as he saw a tear gliding over your face. “Why are you crying?” 

“It's just-” You quickly wiped away the moisture with the back of your hand and sent him an apologetic smile. “I can't even imagine what you have gone through, your youth, and being locked up and tortured.” 

“But he was a monster, he took so many lives. Is that not what he deserved?” 

“His adoptive dad was an arse, of course he didn't deserve it. All he wanted was to be respected, to be loved by those who he had deemed his parents for most of his life. It was not his fault that he strayed from the right path.” You smudged another tear over your cheek. “No wonder he hates himself so badly when everything he does isn't good enough for those he admires most.” 

He turned on his side as well, keeping your gaze. “Is that truly what you think or are you just afraid to displease me?” 

You huffed out a soft laugh. “If I was afraid to displease you, would I ever have called you a fool?” 

A genuine smile moved the corners of his thin lips upwards. “Not to mention you just called the king of Asgard an _arse_.” 

A mischievous giggle escaped you and you quickly hid your mouth behind your hands. “I did, didn't I? Please don't tell him.” 

“It will be the first thing I mention,” he grinned. 

You let out another short laugh and wiped another stripe of salty water away before your glance grew serious again. “Please know that I respect you. It's not enough, but maybe it's something? And I don't care whether you're a red-eyed Frost Giant or a pale-skinned Asgardian – you're still you. You're still Loki.” You smiled as warmly as you could manage with tears in your eyes, not really knowing if your words would help him at all. 

He was silent for a moment. Heartbeats passed, and you were beginning to doubt if he was going to respond at all - so his deep yet gentle voice surprised you when he did. 

“Lately I have been wondering more and more often whether they gave the title 'Silvertongue' to the wrong person.” There was that strange, unidentifiable emotion again, swirling amongst the colours in his eyes. 

You chuckled, if only to keep your heart from tingling. “I'm not nearly as eloquent as you, my prince, but I'm flattered that I make you doubt.” 

You pushed yourself back upright and stood, offering the man your hand; and he took it. Yet when you pulled him up he ended up a little bit closer than you had anticipated, and you swiftly set a step back - only to hit your heel against a lifted floorboard and feel gravity pull you backward. Your heart sunk, stomach dropping through the floor - until an arm wrapped around your waist, pulled you back onto your feet, and held you against a chest you had grown quite familiar with in the last few days. Your stomach wanted to rip itself apart. 

“Still afraid to be close, I see,” he chuckled, and you could feel it resonate through his sternum, resonating into yours. It was a strange sensation. Strange, yet no matter how you tried to denied it, no matter how you tried to block it out, it felt... welcome. You gently pushed him away as you rolled your eyes and let out a disappointed sigh. 

“If that is still what you think then my motivational speeches have had no impact whatsoever.” 

He laughed again, fully, genuinely, and you allowed yourself to watch his eyes scrunch up in mirth for a moment before averting your own and walking over to your bed. Only when the two of you had fully installed yourselves in the beds you had claimed as your own did you dare to speak again, and only barely above a whisper. 

“I'm glad you told me. I know it must be hard to open up about something so... well, you know. Traumatising. So... thank you.” And before he could say anything you rolled onto your other side, facing away from him, and closed your eyes. 

Sleep came soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much Loki in this chapter :'D  
> Hope you liked it!
> 
> I'm sorry it's a bit shorter than the others, but the next one will be of average length again and there'll be longer ones later on to make up for it!


	14. XIV

That smooth voice, dark, playful, whispering your name. How could it sound so real even though you were dreaming? You let it wash over you, enjoying how it soothed, how it seemed to hold a different kind of magic than any you had knowledge of.  
Until the words properly reached your ears. 

“We're leaving.”

You shot up, nearly head-butting the smirking prince. “Wait for me-” You rushed out of bed, quickly put on your shoes, and threw your bag over your shoulder, spilling the gathered herbs you had laid on it all over the wooden floorboards. You huffed a soft curse under your breath as you bent through your knees, gathered the leaves, and stuffed them inside your satchel without being too gentle. 

“We wouldn't dare to leave our precious healer behind,” he teased, his grin widening when you rolled your eyes at him. 

The three of you went downstairs to have breakfast, prince Loki, as expected, not joining you and Thor at the table with soldiers. You watched him from the corner of your eye until he vanished behind the door, wondering if things like this made him feel lonely. You hadn't been the only one following his movements, and even though Thor's men wouldn't dare to outright glare at him, their hostility was palpable enough in the air already. They treated him like an outcast, and so he acted to fit their expectations: he didn't want to bother them if his presence truly irked them so much – at least that is what you suspected. You could be wrong, maybe Loki just liked being alone. But after you had seen him nearly cry, after you had seen him so vulnerable, after you had heard his story, how could he possibly crave solitude? No, that couldn't be the case. 

You stared at your breakfast, indifferently moving your fork through the stuff as your mind rambled on. Years of craving respect and affection, growing up in the shadow of his brother, being lied to about his origins, it had damaged him. But to what extend? The depth of his self-hatred had already surprised you – twice – and maybe it was still worse than that. You had seen pain, sadness, and loneliness swirl in his eyes. Where did his sorrow end? You knew he was very intelligent, more intelligent than you or anyone else could ever hope to be, but that probably only made it worse; there were few things as infuriating as never finding an answer to something that must have been obvious to others all along. 

How did no one see this? How did no one understand that, after all he had been through, of course he would turn bitter? And even now, he wasn't that bitter at all. Maybe the others didn't know about his Jotunblood? Maybe they didn't know his full story? Maybe you had been right – maybe those few minutes he opened up every once in a while were truly as rare as they had felt? But then came questions such as: why you? Why would he open up to you out of all people? You had only known him for a week. Did he truly trust you, then, if only somewhat? Did he think of you as a friend? It was a strange friendship if that were the case, but who were you to judge? The only friend you had ever had, had secretly been in love with you. Had it been secretly, anyway? Or had you just completely missed his flirts even though they had been apparent to anyone else? So had it been a valid friendship at all, or was it some kind of weird, twisted situation? Your brain was melting.

You let out a silent sigh and forced down the rest of your meal even though your appetite had long since left. You were a worrier, an over-thinker when left with your thoughts, and it was tiring. You were tiring. And for a moment you wondered how long it would take the others to realise that as well. 

 

Once the men were done readying their horses, had bound their luggage to the special straps on the saddles, and Loki had helped you onto Egil's back, the party started moving. Now that the roads ahead were paved and the trees no longer offered a line of defense the men stayed closer together, forming a wall around the two princes and you, but it wasn't the only precaution they took: Loki lifted his hand to the sky and for a second you swore you saw a green but transparent dome materialize around you, until it disappeared again in a blink of an eye. It was still there, though; you could feel the energy of the raven-haired prince wisp through the air. Was it some kind of barrier? A forcefield? It did make you feel a little bit safer, yet would it truly be able to hold off any assaults? 

But luckily the party didn't get attacked. At all. Not a single arrow, not a single man with a knife risking his life for some money. Maybe you were biased after all. The people in Blacktree were very fond of their secure spot between the mountains, and had often told tales of the gruesome happenings outside that safety zone; of raiders and bandits hidden behind every tree, in every shadow, waiting for any vulnerable passers-by. The tales had made it seem like there was danger around every corner and one could not travel for an hour before getting attacked again; yet the entire day went by uneventfully. 

It wasn't boring, however. Now that no efforts were made to keep quiet and stay unnoticed, the soldiers easily dared to have lengthy and loud conversations that ended in silly jokes and booming laughter. Especially prince Thor's laugh rang loud and far, not unlike thunder. 

Jari, who rode left of you, and Iver, who rode to your right, conversed with you and with each other throughout most of the day. They spoke of where they were from, jokingly insulted each other for silly things they had done in the past, and listened closely to your dramatised stories; of wolves stealing a precious cow and a herd of massive deer taking on a poacher. You spoke with a grand smile and even grander gestures, using your intonation to expertly convey the tone and atmosphere of every scene, and you had them engaged in mere seconds. You had always loved telling stories. 

When it was time for the soldiers to switch positions you felt Loki bent forward a bit, his lips moving close to your ear, and he whispered yet another accusation. 

“Here you are, telling tales worth your weight in gold, and yet you did not dare to tell me one last night.” 

You softly elbowed his rib, trying to keep the tone of your voice nonchalant. “They aren't bedtime stories, my prince, and correct me if I'm wrong but I do remember singing for you. Was that not enough?”

Your heart skipped a beat and something fluttered inside your stomach when one of his hands let go of the reins and lay itself on your hip, his lips still dangerously close. “How could I ever get enough of that?” 

Was he purposefully trying to freak you out? Because that was starting to work pretty damn well; with his teasing voice and the feeling of his chest against your back and- by Yggdrasil, he was driving you mad. Had he never heard of personal space? You let out a sigh, hoping it sounded either irritated or frustrated. 

“Fine, I will tell you a story before bed tonight. You remind me of a cheeky youngster sometimes.” 

“Something you can't help but adore?” There was nothing but mischievous arrogance in his voice, but you laughed it off. 

“In a way, maybe,” you tried to pay no attention to how his grip on your hip slightly tightened, or to how your belly responded, “but also something I want to remind of their place, either by teaching them a lesson or smacking them across their pale, smirking face again.” 

“You would never hit a child,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the realm, and maybe it was, but then his voice darkened: “but you are always welcome to teach me a lesson, my lady.” 

You could feel him grin that stupid grin of his near your neck, your skin tingling, and the way he had spoken his words – had whispered them – hinted at all kinds of wrong things you didn't even want to think about. Was this flirting? Or was this how friendship was? Well, as there was no way a prince would flirt with a village girl, it could only be the latter, right? Then why did it feel so wrong?

“Shut up,” you grumbled. 

“Why don't you make me?” 

“Because throwing someone so high in status off his own horse doesn't seem like a very good idea, my prince,” you replied dryly, your heart contracting weirdly yet again when he breathed a genuine laugh past your ear. 

To your relief, however, he sat back. “Ah, so it is my status that frightens you then – not the fact that I am a bloodthirsty Frost Giant from Jotunheim, or that I possess magic that could make entire cities cower at my feet, but the rather meaningless observation that I am a prince.” He seemed to enjoy this conversation a bit too much. 

“Next time I'll ride with Thor,” you huffed defeatedly, and as Loki laughed again you gave the night-black horse a soft pat. “Nothing personal, Egil.” 

 

“Good morning, my lady! We haven't had the time to chat this morning.” 

Brant greeted you with a large smile as he came to replace Jari, yet Loki's fingers tightened on your hip. You gently pried them off and placed his hand back on the reins, gave it two friendly pats, and returned your attention to the soldier who, for some reason, seemed a bit relieved. 

“Good morning! Quite the ride, isn't it?” 

“Oh this is nothing yet; one time we had to ride for two whole weeks straight without a single village to rest.” 

And so you were swept up in his memories of journeys and battles, of fleeing from danger and fighting it. Trygve, who had switched with Iver, sometimes interrupted him to further explain or to dramatise it even more than his friend had, or even to enthusiastically give his own narration of a certain part. But they never, not once, made eye contact with the prince behind you. Should you try to introduce him to the conversation? Ask him if he had ever experienced such battles? You listened intently to what they had to say, but every question you asked steered the conversation in the direction you wanted to go. It was masterfully executed manipulation, and neither of them noticed, until the opportunity came for which you had been waiting and you turned your heard to the side, glancing at the prince from the corner of your eye. 

“How about you, then? Surely you must have great tales to tell.” 

“Oh no, I am fully content just listening.” 

Plan failed. But the soldiers shook the awkward moment of silence from their shoulders and re-started the conversation with ease. Maybe it wasn't the right approach, trying to pull him in like that, but maybe he spoke the truth and he purposefully chose not to participate. 

Whatever it was, you decided to let him be and moved your attention to the two men again, listening to them until the skies grew dark.

 

Once the rooms were booked and the horses had been cared for you went upstairs, and, after taking off your shoes and bag, dropped yourself onto the bed with a heavy sigh. You were more than just tired - you were exhausted, but when you thought back to all the wonderful things you had heard and learned, a smile spread on your lips. It had almost become a competition between the men to see who could make you laugh the loudest, and even though there had been no obvious winners both you and them had enjoyed it thoroughly. Without truly noticing it the day had slipped right through your fingers. 

You stared at the ceiling and smiled. Was there something like fate? 

Suddenly the strange sensation of being watched made the hairs in the back of your neck stand up straight, and you quickly pushed yourself up into a sitting position – only to spot Loki by the door. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, my prince,” you sighed as the tension drained from your body.

“There are so many ways in which I could frighten the life out of you, and yet it is my entrance that spooks you. Foolish girl.” He claimed the bed right of you and sat down. There was not an ounce of weariness to be found in his bright eyes or in his straight posture, yet there was some kind of air to him that told you he had had enough of today. He managed to keep his glance playful, however. “Will you honour me with a story now, my lady?” 

“We haven't even had dinner yet! Oh, and which reminds me - would you like me to come sit with you this evening?” 

His eyes widened ever so slightly, and you realised it might not be in your place to offer such a thing. 

“I mean you always distance yourself and I just thought- but I understand if I'm not in a position to ask something like this, to dine with a prince – I never – how does royalty even work? But your brother dines with his men; though I understand why you do not, but then I don't understand... Am I asking something weird? I absolutely have no knowledge of etiquettes-” 

He interrupted your confused rambling with a loud, genuine laugh, and you fell silent; colour growing on your cheeks. Where you could be so witty and ad rem at times, at others you were just a blabbering mess.

His eyes turned dark and he bent forward a bit, leaning on his lower arms as he rested them in his lap, and looked at you like you were something to be studied closely. “Are you asking me on a date, my lady?” 

“Wait, no – I'm, I was just-” your blush spread to your whole face, and your tongue didn't really cooperate anymore until you forced yourself to keep it together. “That was not my intention, my prince – I apologise if my words were inappropriate.” 

“And yet she calls me her prince. Are you sure of your intentions?” His large smirk resonated in his words, and his arrogance seemed to surface again. 

But he had made you realise something. Since when had you started calling him ' _my_ prince'? He was not your prince as Blacktree did not belong to any empire, and neither was he 'yours' in any other way except maybe your friend. Sort of. Maybe? You didn't know. 

“As I said, I don't have much experience with addressing royalty. I might have picked it up from the others or something – I don't know-” you threw your hands in the air and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress again, not looking his way. “Just – forget I ever asked, okay?” 

“I don't think I can,” he teasingly replied, “but if you want to keep me company during dinner then I hereby grant you my approval.” 

You let the air escape from your lungs, rolling your eyes even though he couldn't see it. “Sometimes I wonder if you _want_ me to hit you again.” 

He chuckled. “It was quite the experience, I must say, being hit by a village girl.” 

“You deserved it,” you mumbled under your breath, but he laughed again. 

“I know.” 

Your stomach rumbled. Loudly. “I'm going downstairs. If you want to join me you will have to be quick.” 

And you stood, walked to the door without looking if he was following you, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 200 kudos and 2000 views! Thank you guys so much! ♡


	15. XV

This inn didn't have a tavern directly underneath it but rather in the adjacent building – and the reason was quite obvious. Before you even stepped inside you could see how the music seemed to make the entire place vibrate, could hear how people were stomping their feet on the floor and slamming their fists on the table as they sang along. If one should compare this one to the last, then the last inn had been a light breeze in contrast to this hurricane of sound. Maybe going in wasn't such a great idea after all.

But your stomach growled and gurgled. 

Did you want to ruin your hearing just because you needed to eat? You could still go on for a while even though your stomach was empty, but you wondered if the mornings would be much different from this. You moved your hand over your face and groaned. Why did people have to be so obnoxiously loud? 

“Have you been waiting for me? How kind.” 

You hadn't felt his magic. Was he consciously keeping it hidden now that he knew you could sense him? You didn't even turn your body to face him; merely shot him a look from the corner of your eye as you spoke.

“Don't get too full of yourself, prince Loki. I was merely deciding whether to go in or not.” 

He seemed to think for a moment, then extended his hand. “Come.”

You turned now, and answered his glance with a frown. “Where to?” 

“You will see.” 

After another moment of hesitation you lay your hand in his, but you regretted it immediately – he softly wrapped his fingers around yours and pulled you close, laying his other hand on the small of your back, and the feeling inside your belly fluttered wildly again. He kept your gaze. How could it be that, even now that it was dark, you could still see the bright greens and blues swirling in his eyes? He answered your stare for another few seconds, until a smile pulled on the corners of his lips.

“...What?” You asked, trying not to blush. 

“We're here.” 

“Wh-” 

You were standing on the roof. The actual, slanted, three-story high roof.  
Your legs wobbled for a second as you looked down and your heart sped up in fear, so you quickly took a firmer hold of his arm. If he let go, you would die. You would fall down and split open your skull and smash your brain to pulp or break your spine or bleed to death or-

“I won't let you fall.” 

You lifted your wide eyes back up at his, fingers still tightly dug into the leather of his sleeve. 

“Please don't let go?” 

Your voice was so small, so quiet, and you felt shame creep onto your cheeks. How could you, out of all people, be afraid of heights? It was ridiculous, yet the fact that you had so suddenly been reminded of the fragility and mortality of this body was what frightened you to the point you couldn't move any longer, except for the trembling of your knees. 

But Loki tightened his grip on your back and gently but firmly kept hold of your hand, his gaze still soft. 

“I won't.” 

Your heartbeat was still quick and you could feel the artery in your neck pulsate against the inside of your skin, but you trusted him, and so you closed your eyes and took in a deep, shaking breath. Everything was going to be all right, he wouldn't allow you to fall. And even if you did fall your reflexes might be quick enough to save your life, right? Though maybe, in this case, it worked differently from normal reflexes, or maybe it even needed to be trained? Still, throwing yourself off of a building to check wasn't exactly a good idea.  
You pushed the thoughts away. Don't think about that. Calm down. 

You opened your eyes again and dared to look down the slanted roof to the street below. Yeah, this would be fine – you would be fine, yet you couldn't really get your heart to stop beating so rapidly.  
Then, slowly, Loki sank through his knees, guiding you down with him, and sat himself onto the flat top, the hand that had been on your back sneaking further around your waist to keep you stable. And, when your breathing slowed down again, you realised you were sitting quite securely with your side against his, and the fear slowly – very slowly – drained away. 

He offered you a smile, tiny yet gentle, patient, and you barely heard his words as you were too busy wondering if it was merely your mind collaborating with the dark to play tricks on you. 

“Look up.”

Your brows knitted together ever so slightly. Up? Why up?-

Oh. 

Your heart calmed and your eyes grew wider as the stars shined brightly in the black void above you – no, not black; you squinted and let your eyes adjust to the darkness, only to see how colours started to reveal themselves. Shades of blue, trails of white and yellow light, distant, cloud-like formations in reds and purples, and so many shades in between it all. 

How had you never noticed before? 

Sure, you had looked up at the night sky a few times in your life, and you had always seen the bright stars or the even brighter moon, but all these other colours had never caught your attention. It was beautiful – more than beautiful; it took your breath away. 

Some kind of serenity settled in your heart, like the universe itself was comforting you, and you forgot everything and anything else around you as you stared up at the heavens. The longer you looked the more you saw, and the urge to fly rose within you. To go up and get closer. 

But the impossibly loud rumbling of your stomach broke the spell, and you were pulled back to reality. 

That's when you noticed his arm was still around your waist. You scooted away a bit, answering his gaze with an awkward and apologetic smile as he moved his eyes from the sky to you, and a tiny smirk pulled his lips upward. You quickly spoke before he could, hoping the darkness would hide your blush. 

“Though I must admit it is quite lovely up here, it isn't exactly the best place to have dinner; seeing as there is nothing here to eat or for you to transform into apples.” 

He chuckled, lifted his hand in front of him, and a different fruit appeared. 

Your eyes grew wide. “How did you...” 

“I teleported it here.” 

“From where?”

His mischievous smirk only widened. “Asgard.” 

Your mouth fell open. But you could have seen it coming – if he could teleport himself, then surely he could do that to other things as well, right? Yet over such a distance? But then... 

“If you can teleport yourself and things like this over such a long distance, then why didn't you teleport everyone to your final destination?” 

He laughed. “Sadly, it does not work like that. The smaller the object, the further I can move it, but it gets difficult quite soon if you increase the mass. I cannot teleport a whole party of soldiers, not even over a small distance. A few might work, but not nearly as far as an apple.” He handed you the strange looking fruit. “Besides, this journey is a way in which we show the king and queen of Yllgard that we are worthy of even visiting.” 

“By putting yourself in danger and risking your men and horses to get slaughtered? How does that make one worthy of visiting?” You frowned in disbelief, until you suddenly realised that you now knew what the final destination exactly was: the royal palace of Yllgard. “Wait, I don't need to go inside, right?” 

“The palace? Why not? Surely they would like to meet the woman who has kept us alive.” 

“But I don't know anything about – about – well, anything! Kings and queens or stuff like etiquettes or when to curtsy and when to bow, when to speak – if to speak at all – and how to address people, and what if they ask me where I am from and find out that I am merely a peasant, a girl from a village that doesn't even belong to any kingdom?”

His blue-green eyes scanned your face. “What are you so afraid of?” 

“What isn't there to be afraid of? They are the king and queen, they hold so much power, so much status, and they deserve so much respect; how could I be worthy to even step through the palace gates?” You had heard a few stories, and they had been frightening to say the least. “What if I break something? I couldn't pay it back even if I worked without pause for the rest of my life! What if I unknowingly insult someone? What if they hate me and attack Blacktree, or what if they like me and give me to their son's or daughter's harem? What-” 

He laughed, the clear sound enveloping you in the cool air, and when he looked at you again there was such amusement and mirth in his eyes that your stomach turned again, and you quickly looked away. 

He took hold of your chin and gingerly forced you to look at him again. “Is that what you think of me as well? And of Thor? That we make you work until your death for accidentally breaking something, or that we might put you in a harem if we grow fond of you?” 

You were silent for a moment. You hadn't really thought about them like that. They didn't really seem like the people to make you work or to lock you up for breaking a vase, but you weren't sure if they had a harem or not. He wouldn't let you look away as his gaze had locked onto yours. Did he have a harem? A sting shot through your heart – you probably needed to eat something, and soon. 

“I- I don't know-” 

He chuckled, his fingers letting go and falling back to his side. “Foolish girl.” 

“...So, you do have a harem, then?” You cautiously asked. 

His eyes darkened and his smile turned playful. “If I did, would you like to be in it?” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to keep your face from turning a deep shade of red. “Of course not you idiot, I was just curious.” 

“And why is that?” His smirk didn't disappear. 

“I just like getting to know you, I guess.” You averted your eyes to the fruit in your hands and started to peal away the citrus-like skin, only to uncover the purple flesh underneath. You had never seen anything like this, and you brought it closer to your face to study it more thoroughly. When Loki stayed silent, however, you dared to glance his way again.

There was the strange, delicate emotion swirling through his eyes again. 

“What?” You huffed, moving your attention back to the fruit and cautiously giving it a taste with the tip of your tongue. It was a bit bitter, until the taste switched and turned sweet. You quickly sank your teeth in it and sated your hunger. He still didn't say anything, he was just studying you, and you looked at him from the corner of your eyes as you devoured the fruit. 

He then shifted a bit, a tiny smile playing on his lips, and glanced at the stars above him again. “You're the first. It surprises me.” 

“What, that I want to get to know you better? Is that not what friends do?” 

“A friend.” He huffed out a short but genuine laugh. “I don't think I've ever had one.” 

“I hope I can make up for it.” 

“You care too much.” 

You chuckled softly. “Maybe. And maybe I forgive too easily, and maybe I'm too lenient with giving people my trust; but I'm glad that this is where those flaws have brought me.” You hesitated over your next words, and somehow he noticed.

“What is bothering you?” 

Your smile grew into a smirk. “I'm trying to find a kinder way to say: 'thank you for nearly dying or I wouldn't have met you', but it's harder than I anticipated.” 

He laughed again, and the night was a bit less cold. 

“I suppose I should thank you too.” 

You shifted your glance from the fruit to him. “What for?” 

“Everything,” he breathed softly, gaze still aimed at the heavens.

Something fluttered inside your stomach again. One... whatever it had been, obviously hadn't been enough to fully satisfy your tired body, and you lay your hand on your abdomen. 

“Hey, Loki?” 

“Hm?” 

“Could you maybe... teleport another purple thingy?” 

He snickered. “How would you like an entire plate of fruit?” 

And not a second later a silver plate appeared on your lap. You quickly grabbed a hold of it before it would fall down the roof, and next came, one by one, a whole collection of different fruits. You let out a disbelieving laugh, then laughed even louder. “You're amazing!” You put the plate in between the two of you, your eyes scanning the assortment; and as you were busy deciding which one to try first you missed how that delicate, indescribable feeling took over everything else in the colours of his eyes. 

 

You tried a bit of everything and, with childlike enthusiasm, convinced the prince to taste some as well, despite the fact he already knew about all of it. Within fifteen minutes all that was left were peels and pits and the shiny silver plate, which, with a single, elegant movement of his slender fingers, was gone in the blink of an eye. High on sugars you rambled on for a while about how incredible his magic was and how amazing all that stuff had been, how beautiful the sky was, and how great it was to be so high up like this, until you came down again and sleepiness settled over your body and mind like an invisible veil. Loki noticed, and chuckled. 

“We're leaving early tomorrow. It might be best to go to bed.” 

You hesitated, letting your eyes wander over the colours in the sky again. “I don't want this night to end yet.” 

He stayed silent for a moment, and you wondered if you had whispered it too softly. You truly didn't want it to end yet. Just sitting on the roof, a cool breeze blowing past as the two of you gazed at the night's sky, away from everyone and everything else, and amiable silence apart from exchanged words and genuine laughter; it made your soul feel so free and so thoroughly content that it was hard to let go. 

You glanced at the man next to you, your heat skipping a beat as you met his gaze. He truly had a knack for studying you intensely. Was it weird that you didn't want this to end? That you wanted to enjoy the stargazing and the conversations for a little longer? You knew he was right, though, about needing enough rest, and so you sighed. 

“You're right, it might be best to get some sleep. Can you, uhm... teleport me down again?” 

He elegantly stood without fear of falling and extended his hand, which you took after carefully finding your way back onto your feet. He closed the distance between the two of you with a single step and lay his free hand on the small of your back again, like he had done before, though you wondered if it was really necessary or if he was just teasing you; so you just ignored it and nodded. You were ready. 

And not a second later, you were inside the bedroom, stepping away from the raven-haired man and readying yourself for another thorough night's rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
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> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated ♡


	16. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I might not have time to upload another chapter tomorrow, I figured I would upload it one day in advance! :3

You spent most of the next six days on Egil's back. The days were long but the evenings were fun, and you learned quite a bit. The ground was rather cold during the night, even though it was spring, yet you quickly adapted after one morning waking up with sore bones: the following evening you gathered moss to create some sort of natural mattress that formed a layer between your body and the cool ground, and which granted you some level of comfort as well. Loki had, much to your disappointment, not praised you for your ingenuity, but the little smirk he had given you had been enough to make you feel exceptionally smart for the rest of the evening, and the other soldiers had quickly adopted your technique.

As you were too untrained in the arts of the sword Thor had relieved you from guard duty, but you often had to cook instead. Well, you didn't have to, but you volunteered as there wasn't much else for you to do to help out; and besides, the men seemed to enjoy your improvised meals - not to mention that most of their own cooking was pretty much inedible. Perhaps another reason Loki took care of his own dinner.

Strangely enough, however, he always came to try a bit of the stuff you had managed to concoct. Maybe he trusted you more than his brother's men? It seemed plausible enough. 

Most evenings you would take care of the fire as well, training your magic as you did so. It still was strange to you, being able to set fire to things with the same hands that could heal life-threatening wounds, but fire wasn't all death and destruction – there was beauty in it too. The longer you stared at the dancing flames the more colours you could spot, and, of course, the warmth was more than welcome as well. 

You hadn't dared to ask the prince to teach you other things, though. 

Every evening he secluded himself from the rest; the only times you saw him were either when he came to get some of your cooking or when he took care of his steed, and he always made sure to keep enough distance between himself and the other men. The others didn't seem to notice, and even Thor didn't seem to think much of it. Was this how he always was? You had gotten an idea of his behaviour during the first week, but this was not in any way as you had expected it to be – he was completely isolating himself. And somehow... it sort of hurt.  
The memory of the night gazing at the stars while sitting on the roof of the inn was still so vivid in your mind; how his laid-back posture had betrayed how at ease he had been, how his eyes had stood bright underneath the moon, and how his laugh had softened the cool evening air. Was he still so careful of keeping his reputation intact that he didn't dare to let his guard down around you when the others were close? 

You let out a sigh, focusing your eyes on the dancing fire again. He even kept his magic hidden. You still hadn't figured out how he did that and it frustrated you, because you knew he could find you whenever he liked whereas you had to resort to wandering round the dark woods and calling his name – and often he didn't even answer. Had he changed his mind, about you being a friend and all? Could a prince even befriend a commoner, or was such a thing simply not-done? You felt like punching something. Why did this bother you so much? Were you truly that desperate for friendship? Then why didn't you turn to Brant, or Iver, or any of the other soldiers?

You glanced through the flames to the resting men on the other side. Einer and Trygve were on guard duty and out of sight. Jari was, energetic as always, laying out his plans for when you arrived in the next city to Stigr, who was trying to memorise the route for tomorrow by intensely studying the map in front of him; Brant was cleaning his sword, and Iver was talking to Rangvaldr a bit further away from the others. You knew that any of them would greet you with warmth the moment you stepped towards them and mingled into their conversations, so why did you still hesitate?

You lowered your back onto the grass and glanced up through the openings in the canopy, but the light of the fire hid the colours of the night. Six days of riding. Six days of practicing the same kind of magic. Six days, in which a soft loneliness had slowly began to manifest itself in your being. Memories of Blacktree, of mom and dad, and of Audun, they all seemed to creep back into your conscious thinking. Ten days since you had left. Ten days since your only friendship had ended. Six days since you had verbally offered to be the prince's friend, and six days since he had started ignoring you and everyone else. You weren't sure why you counted. 

You closed your eyes and lay a hand on your forehead. 

Not even during the day had he spoken a single word. No whispered accusations, no teasing arm around your waist or smirk behind your back; nothing, not even in response to your occasional attempts at starting a conversation. After the night on the rooftop he had completely shut himself off from you and everyone else. Had you done something wrong? Said something you shouldn't have? But you couldn't find what, you just couldn't find it, couldn't- _why_ was he ignoring you? 

Another sigh escaped your lungs. “Damn it, Loki.” 

After a few seconds you released the breath you had been holding, and slowly disappointment settled within you. A part of you had hoped for a teasing response, something along the lines of 'a lady shouldn't use her voice for cussing' or maybe something like, well, anything would be fine, really. Anything. 

Thor, however, did hear your words as he walked past, and came to sit down beside you.

“Has my brother caused you trouble?” 

His question was so gentle, his worry so genuine, but it only made the ache inside of you grow more present. 

“Not trouble, just... He ignores me, and it makes me worry.” It sounded so silly when you admitted it out loud like that. 

“There is no need for that, I assure you. He ignores all of us.” 

“I understand why he would evade your men. I just hoped I was different.” 

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again he did so in a lowered voice; as if his words were close to being secret. “Grant him some time. Loki is not used to kindness, and it might take him a while to figure out his own heart.” 

You hesitated, tried to subdue the clenching feeling inside your chest, but the gentle, brotherly aura coming from the golden-haired man beside you was what soothed you enough to speak the thing you were most afraid of. 

“I don't want to lose another friend.” 

He didn't speak for a while. You glanced to the side and scanned the bearded face to try and find out what he was thinking so you could prepare yourself for what he was to say. Would he correct you? Would he tell you that the friendship wouldn't last anyway? 

“I am afraid I cannot help you.” He met your gaze and smiled apologetically. “This is new for me as well, and it makes me happy to hear he has finally found a companion in someone; yet not even I understand him most of the time. He is... unpredictable.” 

You slowly pushed yourself back up into a sitting position and stared into the blackness between the trees, secretly hoping to see a shimmer of pale skin.  
Maybe that was the perfect word to describe Loki: unpredictable. You had found out so much about him and still his words and actions often surprised you or confused you, sending you into maddening spirals of thinking too much and knowing too little. 

“I think this is something for the two of you to figure out. It goes without saying that you may always come to me if you need advice, and I will give it if I have it, but I think you yourself are closer to my brother than I have ever been. This realisation might have frightened him and caused him to distance himself from you, to return to what he knows; which is isolation.” 

You didn't respond, and he stayed for a little longer, until Stigr called him to discuss the route and, after an exchanging of weary smiles, you were left alone by the fire again. The night stretched on without a single sign of the other prince. 

 

Seven days. Seven days since he had truly spoken to you last, and you were beginning to doubt your patience. How long could he possibly need to accept your kindness? If that was what he was doing, anyway. Maybe you could lure him close with your food and then start a conversation? At least he would have to look you in your eyes again, and you might be able to see through him and figure out what he was thinking. Maybe it was worth a try.

So you volunteered to cook again tonight, using the pheasants Iver had shot today and some herbs that grew in the area, and within fifty minutes the delicious smell of roasted meat flavoured the air. The men were already lining up with their wooden bowls, mouths watering and eyes ravenous, yet no sign of the one you were trying to get out of his hiding. Was he not taking the bait? Had he seen through your trap? You were beginning to lose hope as all the men had been served their portion and sat down against the trees or at their guarding posts -

until suddenly he appeared before you, taking the portion you had yet to claim as your own from your hand. Without thinking you grabbed his wrist.

“Don't leave?” 

He stared at you, and you quickly retracted your hand again. 

“I- I apologise, my- “You cleared your throat. “I mean, prince Loki.” You couldn't read his eyes, couldn't read his face, and suddenly he seemed so much more like the image of cold royalty as you had it in your mind. You lowered your head and averted your eyes. “I forgot my place.” 

How could you ever have thought that you, a girl from a village that didn't even belong to any kingdom, could be close with a prince? Maybe that was exactly what he had realised himself. You felt like there was suddenly so much distance between the two of you that your heart contracted with such force you thought the pain alone was enough to make you cry. Maybe you truly had been too desperate, or maybe friendships just weren't really something for you. Yet you fought the tears with all your might and instead smiled apologetically without meeting his gaze, holding your hands in front of your chest as if to hide how much it hurt. 

Maybe... maybe it was for the best. At least you had tried? It was like you had said to him after searching for him for hours: sometimes it's better to hurt badly every now and then than to keep hurting softly. Maybe the ache would fade, now that you had been reminded of who you were and who he was, and you would be able to continue with a content soul again. 

But it hurt so much to just give up on something you had been so stubborn about. 

“I'm going to gather some moss.” You had been able to keep your voice from wavering yet his slight squinting told you he knew something was wrong; so you swiftly turned your back to him, grabbed your bag from the ground, and walked away. There was no need for him to see you cry about something so incredibly childish. 

 

You welcomed the darkness. The trees seemed to bend over you, branches reaching to comfort and leaves rustling in consoling whispers, and the soft moss between your fingers soothed the noise of your thoughts ringing in your head. The woods had always been kind to you. 

You could feel how your eyes were starting to tingle as tears tried to force their way up, your throat clenching shut almost painfully, and though half of you loathed yourself for being over-dramatic, the other half wanted to just let it all out. Never had you felt as lost as you did right now. How easy your life must have been, compared to prince Loki's. He probably had to endure this for years, and yet you weren't even able to cope with it for a couple of days. How weak. How incredibly, agonizingly weak. 

Your legs didn't want to carry you any further, and so you slowly sank to the ground. Your fingers curled, dug through the moss and into the moist ground, formed fists and made imprints of your nails inside the palms of your hands; tears falling freely down your face. You hated yourself for wanting to turn around, to run back to mommy and daddy crying, to make up with Audun and to pretend like nothing had happened just so you could feel unbroken again. You couldn't blame him for saying the things he had said, you couldn't blame him for anything, just like you couldn't blame Loki. The only one there was to blame, was you. 

Your nails had broken through your skin but you didn't feel it, didn't care about it. You needed to stop being such a melodramatic, spineless creature over something so insignificant. You should be happy: you could travel, see the world, experience, learn – how many could say the same without it being a lie? So why were you acting so ungrateful? 

Suddenly you felt Loki's magic swirling through the air, and your stomach sank. It was almost pathetic how you didn't want him to see you like this, yet you quickly wiped your arm across your face anyway and tried to straighten your frown as you pushed yourself off the ground and onto your feet again. He was closer now, still advancing. Only a few seconds left to collect yourself, to get yourself together, to put a smile on your face and to act like you were just gathering moss. Coward. 

You knew that he knew you could sense him. He knew that you knew he was there. Should you turn around? Wait for him to speak up? You took in a deep breath, but kept your back turned to him as you softly pulled another lump of moss from a tree trunk. 

“Is there something you need, prince Loki?” 

He still didn't speak. The urge to turn around was fighting a battle with the desire of keeping your face hidden at all costs, and, whether you liked it or not, it was winning. Why didn't he say anything? Slowly, you turned around, eyes immediately finding his – yet you couldn't read them. Was it confusion or disbelief in his eyes? Was it anger or worry? Sadness or just cold? Was it simply too dark, or was he standing too far away? Was it because of your slightly blurry vision that you couldn't figure it out? 

“Tell me what's wrong.” 

A command, no emotions to be found in his voice. You hesitated. 

“It's nothing-”

“Tell me.” Fiercer now, almost angry, and you felt tears rise again even though you were pushing them back with every bit of resolve you had managed to hold on to. 

Another few heartbeats before you broke, and the river of words started flowing from your lips. “Why did you distance yourself?” Your voice wavered, and your fists clenched tighter. “Why are you ignoring me? Is it something I did? Something I said? Just tell me so I can understand- I can't stand it when you suddenly just- what did I do wrong?” You had lost the fight, and your cheeks quickly grew wet again. “I understand if we can't be friends but please just tell me, don't just-” You made a nondescript movement with your hand before wiping it over your itching face. You just wanted him to go away, to forget about anything you just said, yet at the same time you wanted him to come closer, to tell you that you had it all wrong. Please, let your thoughts be wrong. 

His eyes had grown wider ever so slightly, and his shoulders fell. “My silence is what has been bothering you?” 

“Of course it is- you can't just stop talking to someone!” Why were you yelling? You weren't even angry; not with him, anyway. “I don't want to lose your company, and I can't-” A few smothered sobs. “Don't push me away like that, okay?” 

Why did you keep saying things like this? Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut for once? He probably didn't want to hear this, and yet here you were, standing in the middle of a pitch black forest, crying and rambling like your madness had finally taken control. 

But he cautiously set a step forward, and when you didn't move backwards he set another, wary, hesitant, until he stood within arm's reach. Slowly he lifted his arms and lay his hands on your shoulders, only to gently pull you closer and wrap them further around you, and he held you tightly. Your eyes widened. He was consoling you - why was he doing this? Had you not yelled at him mere seconds ago? You waited a moment, yet he wasn't going to let go - and without your consent your arms moved up to hold him with just as much force, if not more. 

And your defense fell. 

Loud, ugly sobs shook your shoulders and broke the silence, your fingers dug into the leather of his armour and you pressed your red face against his chest for what felt like minutes, hours, days, and he kept holding you. His strength was soothing. His presence was soothing. He held you even when you finally ran out of tears to spill, and even when you had stopped shaking.  
Your body felt numbed, empty, like a fragile shell that one could crush in the palm of a hand, your heart heavy within it, and your mind was weary. 

“You must think of me as a child, crying over something so trivial.” 

“Not at all.”

You wanted to pull away, to look up at his face and call him a liar, but he only held you tighter and sighed. 

“Foolish, that you most certainly are, and you care too much; but you aren't childish. That boy who claims to love you has, in a way, broken your heart, and I think you are trying to mend it again. Only when you grabbed my wrist and then apologised as if you had never spoken to me that way before did I realise how much distance I had taken from you.” He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again there was a certain undertone to his voice that you couldn't quite put your finger on. “That soldier, Brant was his name, I believe, he would make better company. He will help you mend that heart of yours.” 

Your grasp tightened. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” 

“Befriending me will only get you hurt.” 

“Stop that.”

“Hm?” 

“Stop deciding for me. If you do not want my company then just tell me as it is, don't decide for my sake. If befriending you will get me hurt, then so be it.” 

“Have you not had enough of the pain I have caused you?” There was disbelief in his voice, but you also recognised the self-depreciation and remorse hidden in layers underneath. 

“It hurts more when you leave me alone like that,” you grumbled. The smell of leather, forest, and sweat enveloped you in his embrace; the smell of Loki. It was strange to realise you had missed it. How could one man make your mood swing like this? How could he cause such damage, simply by not being around?

“Were you that lonely without me?” He was trying to lighten the mood by teasing you, putting that telltale tone of playfulness underneath his words and that smirk on his face, but you weren't done yet. You needed a promise. 

“I was.” 

He stiffened ever so slightly in your arms, until, slowly, he leaned into your touch again, and rested his cheek against the side of your head. “Saying something like that might invite unwanted attention.”

You ignored his tease. “Promise me you won't push me away again.” He kept quiet, so you said it again, voice louder and fists tightening in the leather on his back. “Promise me.” 

“You have my word.” 

You slowly let go and set a step back, not meeting his gaze until you had wiped the last traces of the salty tears away – but his eyes were aimed at your hand, and before you knew it he had gingerly taken hold of it. 

“Loki, what are you-” 

“You're bleeding.” 

He was right – blood slowly trickled from wounds shaped like the crescent moon, four in each palm, where your nails had punctured your skin. A tinge of embarrassment accompanied the realisation. 

“I think I might have stained your armour, turn around.” 

But he didn't let go. Instead he lifted his free hand to wipe two fingers across your cheek, and your stomach twisted. 

“You smeared it over your face, you oaf.” His voice was soft, but there was a certain kind of sadness to it as well. “I frustrated you to the point of clenching your fists so tightly you injured yourself.” 

You pulled back your hand from his grasp and shot him a feigned irritated look, but a tiny, watery smile twitched on your lips. “Better not do it again, then.” 

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head in disbelief, and when he met your gaze again you could see that delicate emotion swirling in his eyes. Your stomach twisted again and your cheeks were slowly growing red from a different reason than the tears you had shed, so you quickly looked away – saved by the unladylike rumbling of your stomach. 

“Let's get back to the others. You stole my dinner, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and I hoped you enjoyed it! Leave a comment down below to let me know what you think, and kudos are very much appreciated as well! 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	17. XVII

When you arrived back at the camp, arms full with moss, you noticed how not only Thor was watching you with worry in his eyes. Brant stood, sending you a questioning gaze – why had you been crying? Had he hurt you? Were you all right? But you sent him and everyone else a reassuring smile: you were fine. 

He wouldn't have it. 

His glance shifted from you to the raven-haired man beside you, who answered it with a worrying amount of provocation and arrogance, before returning it to yours and wordlessly letting you know that he wanted to speak to you – soon. 

After you had given him a nod in acknowledgment you softly nudged Loki to stop glaring and continued on your way to the fire. You could only imagine to which conclusions the soldier had jumped, seeing as you came out of a dark forest at night with a suspicious man at your side and with eyes red and puffy from crying. Would you ever be able to convince him that he wouldn't do something like that? That he had hugged you instead – and only to comfort, not in pursuit of anything more? You let the moss fall to the ground and sighed. Probably not. 

“A quarrel amongst the lovebirds?” 

You rolled your eyes at the fair-skinned prince as he came to sit down next to you. “Is that jealousy I hear in your words, my prince?” 

He chuckled, teleporting the bowl he had taken from you into his hand and giving it back. It was already filled with hot, steaming meat. “Oh, but I don't think jealousy is necessary; as long as you keep addressing me like that.” 

Your stomach twisted, so you quickly put a forkful of pheasant into your mouth and swallowed it just a bit too soon, allowing you to feel the wondrous sensation of a lump moving down your oesophagus. 

“Shut up. How else should I address you, anyway? You made it very clear that calling you 'sir' is forbidden, and you didn't seem to like it when your brother told me to just simply call you 'Loki'.” 

He lay back onto the grass with his hands behind his head, ankles crossed, and a playful smirk on his lips. “How about sire? Or your majesty?” 

“Go marry a queen first and I'll think about it.” You stuck out your tongue at him before turning to your food again, waiting for another witty response to be flung your way; but it didn't come. You waited a few heartbeats longer. Still nothing. Was he not going to call you a smart-arse, or throw a handful of grass at your head? You glanced his way, only to notice how his smirk was gone.

A bit of warmth left your heart. “Have I offended you?” 

He met your gaze and his grin appeared again, yet it felt empty. “If you had, I would already have wrapped my fingers around your throat by now.” 

You gingerly hit his arm, your gaze stern – genuinely stern, for once. “Don't joke about something like that. You're not like that.” 

“You are awfully violent today, my lady,” he snickered, and jokingly rubbed the spot on his sleeve where your fist had made contact even though you were sure he had felt nothing of it.

“Apparently there are some things I can only beat out of you.” You shot him another look, but then hesitation crept into your eyes, and maybe even a hint of sadness. He noticed and pushed himself back up, yet you spoke softly before he could ask what was wrong. 

“I wish I didn't have to. If you could only see yourself sometimes – when you smile, when you laugh, or when you tease me, and see that you truly aren't as scary and monstrous as you believe yourself to be, I wouldn't have to punch you so often. That night we gazed at the stars,” a tiny smile crept onto your lips at the memory, “it seemed like your mind was at ease. You looked peaceful.”

And beautiful. He had been so, so incredibly beautiful. With the stars reflecting in his eyes, the moon illuminating his silhouette, his laughter chasing away the cold and that genuine smile on his thin, elegant lips. It was like he had been made of the universe itself, as if Yggdrasil had personally formed his being. Had woven galaxies together, merged suns, stolen light of the stars and the hues of colour from out of the darkness to shape him, paint him, like an artist would carefully yet passionately bring to life a masterpiece. 

Were you... were you falling for him? 

You dared to glance at him from the corner of your eyes. No, not a single Asgardian could ever deny his beauty. This was just an observation, a statement, a universal agreement, and there was nothing personal to it. Just because Audun had confused your heart didn't mean you should look for things that weren't there. 

Satisfied with your conclusion you bumped your fist against his shoulder again and grinned. “I do not mind to remind you of it sometimes, though; especially if it means I'm allowed to hit a foolish prince every once in a while.” 

He sighed, but both gratitude and that indescribable emotion were swirling in his eyes. “Sadist.” 

“Idiot.” 

Both of you chuckled, and you moved your gaze back to the dancing flames. It was good to talk to him again, to sit next to him by the fire in amiable silence. It felt right, to have his presence nearby, to feel his magic gently moving in the air around you, to know he didn't ignore you anymore. Why had he started ignoring you in the first place, anyway? He still hadn't told you. Not that you had explicitly asked, but surely an explanation would be polite in a situation like this? What Thor had said, about him going back to known grounds, it sounded plausible – but you wouldn't know it until you had asked Loki himself. Did it matter? He had promised not to push you away again, so the fear of being left behind had dissipated. Couldn't that be enough? 

You mulled over it for a bit longer, finishing your mattress of moss in the meantime and greeting the soldiers as they claimed the spots around you. Loki was gone as soon as they came. 

 

You awoke the next morning sandwiched in between Jari and Iver, and a sigh escaped your lips. There were only two ways to get out of this situation: either you woke them up by forcefully wriggling yourself free, or you waited for them to rouse on their own- which could take at least another hour, guessing by the angle at which the light filtered through the canopy. The sun had only just began to rise. You thought of yourself as a rather patient person, and not as someone who would awake those who needed their sleep most, but sometimes those virtues seemed to be less prominent and you could feel frustration start to rise. Wait - maybe there was a third way. 

You closed your eyes to focus and reached out with your magic, trying to find the sleeping prince. If you hadn't spotted him laying down before you passed out this would have been impossible, but now that you approximately knew his whereabouts you knew which way to send your energy. First you encountered Thor, a weird sensation to say the least – you could feel him in a way very much unlike touch and you couldn't even see him – but then your magic gently washed over the other man beside him, and even though there was no magic surrounding his body you knew it was Loki. Not just because it couldn't really be anyone else, but more because of an accurate gut feeling that worked somewhat – but not fully – like recognition.

He hadn't liked it the last time you did this and had ordered you to stop immediately, but you needed his help because you couldn't stand being squished between these painfully muscular, sweating, and snoring men any longer, and so you only increased the flow of your magic towards him, letting it swirl and swirl around him. By Yggdrasil, was he ever going to get up and help you out?  
Without warning his magic rapidly pushed yours back, and then disappeared again. 

Had he just rejected your request for help? 

Your lips parted in an semi-offended smile and you were just about to search for him again when a familiar hand with long, elegant fingers appeared in your line of sight. You carefully reached out, making sure not to wake the men unconsciously pressing against you, and grabbed it – and for a split second darkness swallowed you before you were suddenly pushed against a tree. 

With eyes wide it took you a moment to realise what was happening. Loki stood mere inches away from you, hands planted above your shoulders, chest heaving slightly and gaze dark – and your stomach twisted violently. What the- 

“Hadn't I told you to stop doing that?” 

He growled it, lowly, frustration mingled with something more primal that only made your stomach twist further. Then you realised your plan had worked: you had gotten him to teleport you out of your rather uncomfortable situation; and a mischievous smile spread on your lips. 

“Thank you for helping me out.” 

He sighed, pushing himself away and turning his back to you before setting one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead. You studied him for a moment, the tension in his figure, the slightly tousled hair - had he been having a nightmare before you had awoken him? Yet he had said he didn't sleep much... Had you deprived him of the rest he did not often manage to get? Your grin faded, and your shoulders fell a bit. You should think more thoroughly about your actions instead of just assuming that he had been awake – what if your carelessness caused him stress? What if the lack of sleep would weaken him in battle, should the group get attacked again? 

“I didn't mean to cause you trouble.” Your voice was soft, and you hoped it would increase your chances of being forgiven, but Loki just sighed again. 

“I do not think you even realise what you have done.” 

Was it even worse than you had thought? You hesitated. “Is it that bad?” 

He huffed out a short laugh, still not turning to face you. “Incredibly bad.” 

“Is... Is there any way I can make it right?” 

He laughed again, slightly shaking his head and turning around to face you – his eyes still dark as he rose his chin and smirked. “Oh, there are many ways, my lady; but I do not think you would like them.” 

Your insides twisted again. You didn't think the things that came to mind were what he was suggesting – it couldn't be – and so you quickly and forcefully repressed the mental images. “Will you forgive me, then? I don't know what I have done, but I apologise. It won't happen again.” 

“Foolish girl.” He chuckled, and softness crept into his eyes. “But you are forgiven – just this once.” 

You let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding. At least it hadn't been bad enough for him to get angry with you?  
You followed him back to the camp, walking a few steps behind him – perhaps out of caution, perhaps to give him some space to breathe after the mistake you had made. It gave you the opportunity to study him unabashedly. The way his apparel followed his lean yet muscular figure, metal and leather shimmering in the early light of the morning filtering through the leaves above. Even through the woods he strode with determination and grace, his arms gently swaying at his sides and his shoulders straight, moving as if his armour was no hindrance at all. It was... rather attractive. 

No – stop right there. You were not falling for the prince of Asgard. He was a friend, and a friend only. By Yggdrasil, you didn't even know what love was! There hadn't been a single boy nor man in the whole of Blacktree to whom you had even felt slightly attracted, let alone felt deeper feelings towards, so there was no way you could like a man who you had only met two weeks ago. Curse Audun and his stupid confession. How in the realms were you ever going to look at friendship the same way again? You wanted to groan in frustration, to punch a tree or to bash your head against a rock, but all you could do was push it all away and refrain from ever thinking about it again. 

That proved to be harder than you had anticipated. 

When he offered you a hand to assist you with climbing onto Egil's back later that morning you couldn't help but notice how smooth his skin was, or how strong his grasp. You constantly felt the presence of his chest near your back. His arms occasionally touched yours as he held onto the reins in front of you, and when the group rode downhill his thighs pressed against your legs and sent your stomach tumbling. And then there was this gentle musk that had 'Loki' written all over it, mixed with the rather sweet smell of sweat, earth, and leather. If he leaned forward now, if he quietly moved his lips near your ear to whisper something – you would lose it. You would absolutely and inescapably lose it. 

But, to your relief, he didn't, and you made it to the city with your sanity intact. And at that moment, when the gigantic walls rose above the trees, Loki was forgotten. 

The party traded the woods for the busy streets of Mikill, one of the last places you would stop on your way to the palace as Thor explained with a broad smile. First stop was, of course, the inn where you would be staying, and the first thing to be done was distributing everyone over the available rooms. It had become standard for you to sleep in the same room as the two of royal blood, yet this time you were even less comfortable with it than before - what if you talked in your sleep and spoke of what you didn't dare to say out loud during the day? Surely one of the soldiers who had been sleeping next to you would have noticed if you muttered things during the night? 

Yet even those worries left your mind when you caught fragments of a conversation: somewhere in the city was a library, open to the public. Books you had never read before – maybe books on magic and medicine! Excitement bubbled up inside of you and you quickly grew impatient as the owner of the inn spoke slow and acted even slower. You wanted to go there before the last daylight faded, to make use of every hour you had left to spend in this city and to learn about as much as possible, so after another ten minutes of constantly shifting your weight from one foot to another you finally sighed and walked over to Brant. 

“I'm going to the library. I will be back before nightfall.” 

But as you turned he gently grabbed your shoulder. “It's not safe to go alone, let me come.” There was that look in his eyes that permitted no resistance, and you nodded. He informed Thor of your leaving and escorted you outside. 

You knew he still wanted to talk to you. Every time you had met his eyes during the ride there had been determination in his glance, mixed with some other things you hadn't been able to figure out yet. You could only hope it wasn't about Loki, but when you had traversed a few streets he spoke, and dread settled in your stomach. Your fear had become reality. 

“We need to talk about prince Loki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, chapter 17! Tell me what you think, every comment and critique is welcome!
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	18. XVIII

“More specifically, we need to talk about prince Loki and you.” 

You avoided his gaze and sighed, glad that the many conversations and sounds around you gave the two of you some privacy. “He hasn't hurt me, Brant, nor touched me with improper things in mind-”  
“Are you in love with him?” 

Your eyes widened and your heart contracted awkwardly, missing a few beats. “No- Gods, no! I'm not in love with him - we're merely friends.” 

The swordsman was silent for a moment, and both of you kept walking down the busy street. The scent of baked goods flavoured the air and the smiles of the people around you seemed to reflect the warm rays of the sun. It would have been peaceful, if it hadn't been for the uncomfortable tension between you and the man next to you. You just wanted to explore the city, enjoy the new sights and experiences; was that too much to ask?

“You know he will never love you back, right?” 

Frustration grew in your core yet you managed to stay calm. “I don't care if he will never love me, as I am not in love with him in the first place.” 

“Stigr has taken a liking to you too, you know.”

You frowned. “What are you saying?” 

“Just know that there are other men out there. Better men.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Brant-” 

But his gaze was determined, his hands on his hips as he halted in his path and turned to you. “I don't want you to end up like my sister.” 

You willed your legs to stop walking and exhaled as much frustration as you could. He meant well, it was only your safety he was worried for, and you truly appreciated him looking out for you, but couldn't he see that the prince and you could never end up in the same situation as his sister and her abuser? 

Brant gently took hold of your shoulders, his gaze like a wordless plea. “Please, promise me you will not fall in love with him. Promise me you will not give yourself to him. That man is incapable of loving you like you deserve, if he is capable of love at all. He will hurt you, ____. A prince will never truly fall for a commoner.” 

You smiled reassuringly, ignoring how his words stung more than you were comfortable with. “I will not fall for him. Can we please just find the library now?” 

He let go and nodded, sent you an apologetic glance, and the two of you continued on your way. 

 

Brant led you straight to the building you might not have been able to find on your own. It wasn't much bigger than the other houses, yet it was still of a size that made your heart giddy with excitement. A row of high, white-stone pillars rose on either side of the pathway towards the entrance, and the floor, made of the same beautiful stone, was decorated with intricate designs depicting what you assumed was the history of the city itself. Brant sighed after a while, waiting near the large, wooden door for you to catch up; yet your eyes were too busy for you to pay attention to the speed of your pace. It was fascinating. Once you had deciphered what the images spoke of you tried to find any clues as to how they had been made. The floor hadn't been painted, or the many people passing by every day would have worn it away, and it couldn't have been carved as the stone was still intact. Had it been magic? Were there more people like you and Loki in this city? You finally reached the door, and Brant opened it for you.

“Do you mind if I turn back? As long as you're inside you'll be safe, and I'll come to get you at twilight.” 

“Sure, I won't be going anywhere else today.” 

You watched him until he was out of sight, waving until he disappeared, and closed the door behind you before letting the air escape past your lips. It was time to start studying. 

After a few minutes you had already found six books you wanted to read and had piled them up in your arms, now carrying them to the nearest table and setting them down with a soft thud. You were never going to finish them all today, so you had to be selective in your reading. After getting out your notebook, inkwell, and pen, you started scanning through the first few chapters of a medicinal guide, copying all the drawings and information you deemed useful, and within two hours you were already starting to run out of blank pages. 

 

When your pen fell still, your thoughts spoke up. You weren't allowed to go outside without someone at your side, and where you had been fine with that before you now felt as if it was rather unnecessary. You had your own tricks to ward of any dangerous men or women, and you could heal yourself for Yggdrasil's sake. It wasn't like everyone out on the streets wanted to stab you. You shut the notebook and put it back in your shoulder bag before cleaning the black ink from the metal tip and shoving it into the satchel as well. Maybe tomorrow you could convince someone to go and buy a new notebook with you, or maybe you could even convince Thor that you were fine walking through the city by yourself, but for now you just took another book off the pile and moved to the large sofa in the corner. 

Dust moved gently through the air, illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the large window behind you. Not a single soul passed through this part of the library as you lost yourself in your book, and the silence was soothing. You could get used to this. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply and focusing on the feeling of the fading sunlight on your skin – until a strange pressure appeared on your legs and your eyes shot open again. 

“Won't my lady read to me?” 

He looked up at you with mischief in his bright eyes, raven hair spread over your thighs as he rested his head in your lap, his hands folded on his chest and his legs, crossed, on the rest of the couch. Your face grew red but you were too shocked at his sudden appearance that you sat frozen, arms lifted halfway as you held your book up in the air. 

“Give me one good reason why I wouldn't smack your face with this encyclopedia of herbs right now.”

“Your heart is too soft.” 

You sighed, lowering the book and laying it beside you. “You startled me.” 

“I must admit that was partly my intention,” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, “yet I still hope you will accept my request. I am your prince, after all-” 

“Oh shut your lips, Silvertongue. This isn't even a book with proper stories.” 

“Read to me.” 

You stared at him. He stared back. Was his gaze ever not intense and piercing? Was he purposefully trying to make you feel awkward? Trying to make you blush? You huffed, partly to convey your irritation and partly to get rid of the strange feeling inside your stomach, before picking up the book and opening it on the page where you had left off. After a moment of hesitation you began to read out loud. You told him of the properties of different kinds of plants and their flowers and seeds, finding a nice flow that allowed you to mentally store the information yourself as well, and you found that you didn't mind this; the reading and even the leg-occupying. It seemed as if he slowly grew heavier, and when the light had faded and it was becoming difficult to continue you closed the book and lay it aside – only to see how his eyes were closed. 

Was he fooling you again? You watched his chest rise and fall at a languid and steady pace. His soundless breathing sent the particles of dust swirling away softly, causing them to shift and dance up and away, only to be gently pulled back when he inhaled. Maybe your stunt this morning had truly awakened him when he had needed his sleep, and this was your punishment: being stuck on a couch with a prince sleeping in your lap. Yet, to be honest with yourself, you didn't mind this either. 

You found yourself studying his face. His cheekbones, the sharp line of his jaw, his eyelids and his lashes; his nose, his chin, his lips, your eyes lingering on his lips, his hair. Slowly you reached out and gingerly brushed your fingertips through the locks as black as the night, your heart feeling as if it was glowing, and you allowed yourself to recognise the feeling for what it was: fondness. 

You had fallen for prince Loki. 

Butterflies moved around in your belly and a tiny smile pulled on the corners of your lips as you rested your gaze on the man you had started to care for. The man whose face you had defiled with nillaberries, the man who had allowed you to ride with him and who had taken away your pain. Who had comforted you like you had comforted him. 

All those times you had thought hunger, poison, or awkwardness had made your stomach twist and turn were suddenly put in a different light, with a different meaning. When had you started to like him? Had the feeling grown or had it just suddenly been there? You didn't know. All you knew, right now, was that Brant was right, and that this was far from okay. 

Your smile fell and sadness took over, washing over you and slowly drowning your happiness, burying the glow. You had promised not to fall for him mere hours ago, promised to simply see him as a friend and nothing more. You finally understood what Audun must have felt like – must still feel, and your heart contracted painfully. Loki could never feel the same for you. He was a prince, you were a simple girl from a simple village, kingdomless and inexperienced in each and every way. You were no royalty. You weren't even of higher status than a horse. You could never match his intelligence, nor his magic. You couldn't stand beside him in battle or you would most likely get slaughtered. You weren't beautiful, you weren't talented, and there had been chaos inside your head for days, weeks now. You were inferior in so many ways, unlovable in so many ways. 

Why did you have to go and fall for him? Why couldn't you just have fallen for Brant, or Stigr, or Iver? Why were you so set on getting yourself hurt? Because it hurt. It hurt so, so bad. To remember his laugh, to see his face, and to know that soon you would have to leave him behind. Because how could you be around him when you secretly wished for more than friendship? You would end up exactly like Audun: abandoned. You had abandoned him. And Loki would do the same when he found out. 

No, you were going to do everything in your power to keep him from finding out. You would keep him company as a friend until you reached the final destination of this whole journey, and then you would say goodbye and go home. It was better for both of you. He wouldn't have to go through the whole friendship-love-confusion thing and the two of you could part as friends. You would be able to remember him with fondness instead of regret. This feeling would pass eventually, and you would be able to continue living your life like you had before he had barged into it. Everything would go back to normal. You just had to keep fighting it for a while longer. 

You moved your fingers through his hair one last time before retracting them – until slender fingers lightly wrapped around your wrist and pulled your hand against his lips. 

Your stomach twisted so violently you let out a soundless gasp, and it took you a few irregular heartbeats to find your voice again. “You were awake?” 

“You are easily fooled.” He hummed the words against your skin and it felt as if a thousand butterflies went wild inside of you. 

Why was he doing this? Why was he looking at you like that? What was that delicate emotion in his eyes? A tear fell on his cheek, and another. You moved your free hand to your eyes and realised that you were crying. Why were you crying? Why did it hurt so much? Why were you hoping you had a chance? Why did you torture yourself like this? Why didn't you get up and leave? You needed to leave, you needed to leave-

He sat up, eyes slightly wider and gaze saturated with confusion, but he kept hold of your wrist. 

“Did my teasing go too far?” 

Teasing. Yes, he was teasing. All he had done was teasing, joking around; because he was a trickster, and he liked seeing your reactions. He just liked the way you responded, nothing more. How could you possibly have thought you had made a chance, even if had only been for a second? You were such an idiot, such a massive, massive idiot. Your cheeks started itching, burning. How were you going to talk your way out of this? How were you going to explain this? 

“No, it's just-” A sob. “I-I'm a bit tired, that's all.” 

You quickly wiped the tears away, trying to straighten your pained frown. He did not seem to believe you, but pried no further, and instead offered you a hand as he stood. 

“Let's go back to the inn.” His voice was soft, uncertain, and his shoulders had fallen. He looked... hurt. 

You had hurt him. Your stupid feelings had hurt him. Why couldn't you just stop feeling altogether? You were weak, laughably weak, and you hated yourself for it. If you had just listened to Brant this wouldn't have happened. If you hadn't been so incredibly stubborn and short-sighted, none of this would have happened. 

You took his hand, let him help you up from the couch and onto your feet. You wanted him to pull you into an embrace, to shush you, to tell you that everything was going to be all right; but instead he let go of your fingers and silently walked you to the exit, over the path lined with pillars, and through the streets, until you set foot in the inn and he quietly announced there was somewhere he needed to be. And he disappeared. 

Great, your emotional outburst had scared him away. You felt tears rise again and so you hasted yourself up the stairs and into the right room, where you fell down onto the bed and hid your face into the pillow. You cried until you were no longer capable of crying, felt until you could no longer feel, and you were empty. A fragile, hollow shell that one could crush in the palm of a hand, your heart heavy within it. 

When Brant banged on the door you pretended to be asleep. When Thor came to get you for dinner you did the same. And finally, when both princes entered the room to prepare for the night, sleep had truly taken hold of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think by leaving kudos or a comment <3
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	19. XIX

The morning sun roused you from your dreamless night, and you languidly pushed yourself in an upright position before hiding a large yawn behind your hand. The night had been kind to you. You had slept deeply, hadn't dreamed, and your heart had calmed; stabilized. You didn't get long to enjoy the feeling, however, as the door opened and Loki walked in – his eyes immediately finding yours.

“Ah, I see you have finally awoken. I have brought you breakfast.” He lifted the bowl in demonstration, handed it to you, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to yours. 

His voice had been soft, almost tender, but you spotted the guilt and hesitation in his eyes and your chest contracted painfully. He still thought he was responsible for your tears. If you distanced yourself now like he had done before, you were fairly sure it would mean the end of your friendship – or any kind of companionship. Even though your mind begged you to run away and keep yourself from hurting, to let go of him, your heart wouldn't allow you to leave him like this. Because how could you, when you looked into the eyes of a man who was utterly lost?

“Thank you, my prince.” You hesitated for a second, gathering your courage. “I... have a request.” 

He raised his eyebrows, signaling you to continue.

“I would like to buy a new notebook today, but I do not know my way through the city. I... I was hoping you could show me around.” You smiled, hoping your glance was casual enough to reassure him, and it appeared to work. 

“If... that is truly what you wish-”

“It is.” 

Some kind of relief seemed to wash over him, as if you had granted him forgiveness for a terrible act, and the corners of his lips rose lightly in the tiniest of genuine smiles. 

“Then I shall accompany you on your walk today.” 

 

And so, after breakfast, the two of you traded the inn for the busy streets. First stop was the book binder, where you bought two notebooks instead of one – mainly because you just couldn't help yourself – with the money you had saved throughout your life, and next was one of the local herbalists, where you asked for advice on which books to read. The owner, a young man with skin the colour of fertile soil, ended up giving you a tour around his shop and allowed you to browse his herbs and medicines as he explained everything you wanted to know – and you certainly didn't complain. Excited, you absorbed all the information you could get. 

Loki silently watched you with his hands on his back and his gaze much like one would have when trying to solve a riddle. Had you still not convinced him that your emotional outburst hadn't been his fault? You sent him a bright smile and held up a beautiful flower as you told him of its properties, hoping your enthusiasm would put him at ease.

About two hours later, when the kind healer got a few customers, the two of you left with the promise to return tomorrow and stepped out into the streets again, careful not to disrupt the flow of people passing by. 

“Where next?” 

“I was thinking of going to the library again.” 

“I assume you know the way?”

“Are you not coming?” You tilted your head to the side a bit, trying to hide your disappointment, and he responded with confusion in his gaze. 

“Are you sure you want me to come?”

You hummed in affirmation. “Why wouldn't I be?” 

He averted his eyes. “You know why.” 

“I told you that you weren't the cause.” He started walking, and you followed. “I am not going to distance myself from you, Loki. You know I value your company.” 

He didn't respond, and the two of you walked in silence for the rest of the way. Had he accepted your words? Did he know they were partially a lie? Not completely false, just not quite truthful either: he had, indirectly, caused your tears - but only you were to blame. You didn't dare to look at him yet, so you paid him little attention and focused on the streets. It wasn't hard, as there was so much to see, so much to hear, and only when you reached the pillar-lined hallway did you cast a glance sideways. He was still troubled. 

On one hand it saddened you that your tears had upset him, but on the other you had never expected him to be so affected by them – at least not in this way – and you let out a huff of laughter. He truly was soft underneath that cold and hard outer layer, no matter how determined he was to prove everyone otherwise; and fondness swelled inside your heart. Foolish prince. 

He glanced your way. “You puzzle me like no other, my lady. Why do you laugh?”

“Oh, no specific reason.” You grinned at him, a twinkle of secrecy and mischief in your eyes, before opening the door and stepping inside the atmosphere of knowledge and warmth. 

 

He followed you as you gathered the books and sat down beside you on the sofa underneath the window, watching you intently as you started copying the contents again. Should you have chosen a different spot to sit down? Or did this prove you really hadn't been crying because of him, as you hoped it did? Either way, his staring made it rather hard to focus; so after a few minutes you sighed and met his gaze. 

“Is there no book to your liking?” 

“There is little that I do not already know on the subjects that interest me.” 

“How about poems, then? Or a novel?” 

A smirk pulled his lips upwards, and mischief conquered his eyes. “I would enjoy it more if you would read it to me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “What is up with you and making me read things to you? Wait, are you illiterate-” 

“Don't be an idiot, I merely like your voice.” 

Your belly tingled. There was no jest in his tone. He had mentioned it before, hadn't he, that time you had sung for him? You felt a blush rise to your cheeks so you quickly moved your attention to your book again and let out a soft, irritated huff.

“Find me a nice story and I will think about it.” 

He offered you a book within a heartbeat, a smug look on his face, and after you shot him a glare you took it from him to scan it. The cover was without title or illustration, and the spine was worn from being read times and times again. Then you noticed the trace of magic woven throughout the pages. A spell to keep it from falling apart, maybe? You had to admit, you were intrigued. Was this Loki's doing? Was it his favourite book? If so... would your voice do it justice?

Well, it was his own fault if you ruined the story for him forever. 

You let out a quiet sigh but nodded, not meeting his gaze. “All right then, lie down and shut up.” He didn't move, and when you glanced at him you saw how confusion had crept into his eyes – or maybe it was surprise? It was hard to tell. 

“Moving my fingers through your hair is therapeutic, and I can easily hide your face behind the book so that it won't distract me.” 

You had expected a grin, or maybe a chuckle, but he slowly turned and moved to rest his head on your lap without making a single sound; pulling his legs onto the rest of the sofa and crossing his ankles like he had done the first time. You fought the blush as you opened the book, hesitantly started moving your fingers through his dark hair, and began to read out loud.

Within moments the story had captured you and refused to let go, making you lose track of time and all sense of what you were doing. Your fingers moved without thinking about it. Your lungs and heart found a rhythm on the flowing of the words. Emotions appeared on your face and vanished again without you even as much as noticing them. Pages and pages flew by and the world unfolded itself inside your head like you were truly there, like you could hear the characters speak. 

Only when, at a certain moment, your voice wavered and turned slightly hoarse, you were pulled back into reality. 

You cleared your throat, lay down the book, and focused on the locks between your fingers again, rather confused as to how his hair could possibly be so soft. “How about you take over, and read to me for once?” 

He hummed. “I'm rather comfortable.” 

“You won't be if you don't get up. I need to stretch my legs.” But your words were spoken without any true irritation, as your mind was too weary to put much energy into them. 

He sat and moved away a bit, allowing you to stand and pop your back. After a bit of stretching you sat down next to him again and nodded for him to start, suppressing a yawn. And he started to read.  
You didn't want to admit how you loved his voice, how you wanted him to keep talking for hours to come, and how it warmed your heart and soothed your soul; because if you _did_ admit it, you would be unable to predict what you would do next. Well, actually you could, and the thought horrified you. 

You let your eyes wander over his face, lingering on his thin lips again. By the realms, how you wanted to kiss this man. 

Fighting against it felt like healing yourself while someone kept stabbing you; but feeling the urge to kiss him in the first place was already so very, very wrong. You could easily imagine how he would push you away, shocked, disgusted, maybe even mocking you before he teleported away and left you behind. He would never look at you the same, maybe never even speak a word to you again – your heart squeezed painfully tight. You moved your eyes to the dust particles swirling in the sun streaming through the window. Was there no magic that could lift this damned curse? 

Luckily your thoughts slowly faded as your mind drifted off to the imaginary lands, then further, into the embrace of sleep. It was okay to let your consciousness go, you convinced yourself; Loki was here to keep you safe and you wouldn't have to deal with the storm inside your mind anymore. And besides, you needed the rest to give your brain the chance to store all the information you had so eagerly absorbed today.  
And so, as your rational thinking vanished, the world around you dissipated into a calming darkness. 

 

 

This time you had dreamed, and scenes came floating back as you slowly pulled yourself back to reality. Scenes of bright, blue-green eyes, a silvery voice speaking unintelligible words, but most of all it was the feeling of arms around you that lingered. Cool, yet not unpleasantly so; strong, yet tender and gentle. You felt safe. You felt loved. 

Yet, as you fully awakened, the feeling stayed just as present. 

Your eyes shot open and you quickly searched for anything recognisable. Books- bookcases- still the library. Cool arms- that wonderful scent- 

Your stomach twisted violently. 

You were laying on top of the prince, face towards the ceiling, head resting on his chest, and legs between his as the two of you covered the whole couch. His fingers were interlocked on your abdomen as he held you, and the butterflies erupted again. Why was he holding you like this? Why did he allow people to see him like this? This was not proper-

Then a tiny, high-pitched whistling sound reached your ears, so quiet you would have missed it if your heart hadn't stopped beating completely. You held your breath. Waited.  
There it was again, even softer, at the same time as Loki's chest slowly fell. 

There was no mistaking it: he was truly sleeping this time. 

It explained the position the two of you were laying in, as well as why he hadn't taken action to save his reputation for any spying eyes, and you felt your heart calm down slightly. He didn't know what was happening. You could still escape. 

But did you want to wake him? Hadn't you, only a day ago, come to the conclusion that he needed his rest, especially if he slept so little? You tried to convince yourself that that was the only reason you let the tension flow out of your muscles again, that it wasn't because of the way the butterflies fluttered pleasantly or because of the comfort of his embrace – and it certainly wasn't because of how you could imagine it to be real, conscious, intended. And you could imagine it oh so vividly, laying next to him in bed, his body pressing against yours and his arms around you as he whispered a good morning with that smooth voice of his-

You immediately interrupted your thoughts, wishing the untamed creatures in your belly would die already. This whole situation would be so much easier without your affection acting up like the disease it was. 

Wait, maybe you could turn this into a less stomach-twisting-nearly-romantic situation and into more of a mischievous-friend-has-as-stupid-idea type of situation? You reached out for your bag, slowly, carefully, holding your breath so as to notice any changes in the prince's breathing, and managed to grab your pen without waking him up. You had forgotten to clean the tip – which you would have scolded yourself for in any other situation, but now you only felt excitement bubbling up as your playful side took over – and black ink shimmered lightly in the fading beams of sunlight.  
Cautiously you turned your body, and reached up.

It was difficult to keep in the pressing laughter as you swiftly adorned his upper lip with a curly moustache. 

Suddenly your wrist got caught in a prison of elegant fingers and you jumped, eyes immediately locking with Loki's. 

This might not have been a good idea after all. 

His glare was dark but there was a grin trying to pull up the corners of his lips, amusement barely hidden in the swirling colours of his eyes. 

“Any last words?” 

You grinned, so wide it almost hurt, and you had to bite your lower lip to keep it from growing even larger. “I haven't given you a goatee yet-” 

Without a warning he sat up and pushed you backwards, one hand bringing your wrist up above your head as his other made sure your back didn't hit the couch with too much force. He pinned your other hand above your head as well, placing his knees on either side of your hip, and hovered above you with a dark smile curling his mouth. 

“How would you like your life to end?” 

But you were frozen, unable to answer, your heart beating so loud you feared the whole library would be able to hear it if you didn't calm down soon. He was too close, the dark hair falling beside his face tickling your cheeks, and his eyes stared directly into yours – your stomach wouldn't stop turning. You could imagine him bending down a bit, mouth finding yours, your neck-  
Then you noticed your work, and intense amusement came bubbling up. You tried to suppress it, tried to keep it in - but you failed and the laughter burst out of your lungs, your eyes scrunching up and tears forming in your waterline.  
When you had finally calmed down a bit, the laughter reduced to snickering, you pulled a hand free from his grasp and brought it up to his chin; gingerly laying the palm against the sharp line of his jaw and brushing your thumb over the black above his lip. When you only smudged it further, creating a rather large stain, you laughed again and let your hand fall back to the side of your head. 

“I'm sorry-” you giggled, a tear sliding down the side of your head and into the shell of your ear. “This doesn't help with you trusting me, does it?” 

He let go of your hands and sat back up on his knees, a large grin on his face and both amusement and that unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. “Seeing you could have stabbed me, the damage to my trust might not be as great as you think.” 

“I would never stab you, you idiot,” you huffed back, still smiling, and pushed yourself upright – only to nearly press your face against his abdomen. You quickly shoved yourself back and forced down the blush. Oh, your pen, better clean it now and put it back! 

Loki chuckled. “Come here.” You met his eyes, a frown on your face. He raised his brows, smirk widening. “That's an order.” 

You rose your chin and huffed. “You cannot command a friend.” 

“Oh, but you're wrong,” his eyes twinkled with mischief, “because this 'friend' still has something to take care of.” He lay his finger on his beautiful lips and your stomach twisted violently. Did he mean... Oh, the moustache-

You could only hope your blush wasn't as bad as it felt. For a moment you had thought he had wanted you to kiss him – and your heart had tingled with anticipation. You fished your water bladder and a clean rag out of your shoulder bag and moved onto your knees, turning back to Loki. 

“All right, sit still.” 

You gently rubbed the wet cloth over the smudge, horrified to see how it only made it worse, but you kept your face straight and stayed at it. Then you tried softly rubbing your fingertips over his skin, which worked better. And, after about five minutes, his upper lip was finally ink-free – though a bit red from all the friction. 

You sat back on your bum with a sigh. “There you go; my beautiful work undone.” 

“Wonderful. Now let's go back before night falls; your soldier friend might get worried.” 

Your eyes widened. Brant. He had undoubtedly waited for you yesterday, to take you back to the inn, but Loki had already escorted you back by the time he had arrived at the library. The man had sounded rather angry when he had banged on your door later that night. Oh no. You stared into nothingness, as if you could see the impending doom coming, and spoke as if you had already been defeated. 

“He's going to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Every bit of support is appreciated: kudos, comments, fanart; I welcome all of it with open arms and a glowing heart <3  
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hooo boi. When writing this chapter I nearly made them give in and do the do - I mean, Loki had the perfect position for it, amiright? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I will leave it up to your imaginations what would have happened then~  
> But I said it was going to be a long burn, and I'm going to keep my word ;3 
> 
> He brought you breakfast and trusted you enough to fall asleep around you! Gosh he is so damn cute *sigh*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to let me know what you think!


	20. XX

The raven-haired prince wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, but you ignored his grin, rolled your eyes, and waited for him to teleport. The library switched for the bedroom in a fraction of a second, and you swiftly stepped out of his reach. 

“I'm going to find Brant, I hope to be back before dinner. If I haven't returned before midnight please search the streets for my lifeless body and give it a proper funeral, will you?” 

He smirked. “I will.” 

And so you left the room, shut the door behind you, and moved down the stairs. You found Jari, Trygve, and Stigr sitting at a table in the back, but Brant was not amongst them. 

“I'm sorry, miss, we haven't seen him for a while.” Trygve sent you an apologetic smile. 

Jari put his mug of ale down and met your gaze as well. “He's not in our room, but I haven't seen Rangvaldr around either. I think they might be training outside the city gates.” 

“I'll come with you, miss.” 

You nodded at Stigr, easily managing to hide your frustrated disappointment. You had hoped that the men had forgotten about the pairs-only rule, that you could have sneaked out on your own and could have enjoyed your walk without the need to keep up a conversation; but then again, they had sworn to act according to the prince's commands, so forgetting about them was out of the question. 

Stigr followed you outside and, as you had predicted, started talking - yet it wasn't as bad as you had feared. He spoke of his enthusiasm at coming to a city as great as this. It was his first year serving in the Royal Guard and he hadn't travelled much before, therefore things like this still managed to get him all energetic even though the other soldiers didn't seem to find it as interesting anymore. His excitement resonated within you and soon you found yourself agreeing with him, telling him how the local healer had allowed you to look through his herbs and medicines and how incredible the library was. About halfway through your story you remembered what Brant had said, though.

Stigr had taken a liking to you.

You kept talking, but your thoughts ran on. Did it mean he had feelings for you? If he told you, how should you respond? What could you say to keep his heart from breaking? Stigr was kind, so full of joy and so pure of soul, yet you did not feel anything but friendship towards him. He had become somewhat like a little brother to you in the two weeks you had been travelling with him, even though he was probably of the same age, and the mere thought of kissing him made your stomach twist – but not pleasantly. Not like it twisted when you imagined the smirking prince instead, when you imagined those thin lips against yours-

You took in a deep breath and asked Stigr a question about the places he had already been before so you didn't have to talk for a while. Even when Loki wasn't around he occupied your thoughts, and it was slowly driving you insane. 

 

The sun had begun to set when the two of you reached the gates, and when you turned around the corner you saw that Jari had been right. Loud clashing of swords filled the air as you walked over; until Rangvaldr noticed you and called a time-out.

Brant lowered his sword, turned around, and met your gaze. You could see how the frustration immediately surfaced inside of him again. You lowered your eyes and nodded, both in acknowledgment of his feelings and in acknowledgment of what needed to be done. 

“How about we go for a walk through the woods?” 

You nodded again before turning to Stigr and Rangvaldr. “There is no need to wait for us.”

Rangvaldr seemed to get the hint and suggested to Stigr that they return to the tavern, took the confused scout with him, and disappeared back through the gates and into the city.

 

As soon as they were out of sight Brant stepped forward and grabbed your shoulders. “Do you know how worried I've been?” He nearly shouted it, but it truly was worry and not anger in his eyes.

Nevertheless your heart contracted painfully, and you lowered your gaze. “I know an apology can't make it right. I wasn't thinking straight-” 

“What has he done to you? You are still wearing your scarf. Are there fresh marks on your neck? Or elsewhere? You didn't open the door. Were you crying?”

“Brant-” 

His voice turned more pleading now, and he let go of your shoulders. “Please, ____. Please tell me. My mind has been jumping to conclusions and it is driving me mad. Please tell me you are unharmed, that he hasn't hurt you-” 

“I have broken my promise.” 

He froze. 

The seconds crept by agonizingly slow and he didn't answer, he didn't move his gaze – he just stared at you, shocked. Then, after a few more seconds, he seemed to come to his senses, yet his eyes stayed wide. 

“You have given yourself to him? Why would you-” 

“No- for Yggdrasil's sake, I haven't given myself to him- the other promise!” You averted your eyes, your cheeks gaining colour. 

“You... you have fallen _in love_ with him? Are you sure it's not spring fever?” 

“I wish it was.” Your voice was barely above a whisper now, embarrassment and sadness washing over you. You were such an idiot. Such a stupid, incompetent, useless idiot. “Promise me you will take this secret to your grave.” 

He sighed, laying a hand on his forehead and closing his eyes. “Why, out of all people, did it have to be prince Loki?” 

“I don't know.” 

“It's going to hurt bad.” 

“It already does.” 

He met your eyes again, and you could see how sadness swirled amongst the brown. “I guess it can't be helped. I do not approve of it, nor do I understand it, but I know you don't have much of a choice when it comes to matters like these. I will be here if you need someone to talk to.”

Your eyes widened a bit and you could feel unshed tears starting to burn your throat and nose, but a tiny smile pulled on your lips as gratitude filled your gaze and voice. “Thank you. Just- just promise never to tell him, all right? Or anyone.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle hug, “I only wish I could have prevented this from happening. It's like seeing my sister fall in love with the wrong guy all over again, and it hurts me too. But I'm here for you. I'm here.” He rubbed your back as your cheeks started to itch, grew wet, and stained his shirt. 

“I don't want to be in love with him.” Your shoulders shocked with every sob. “I don't want to be in love. It hurts-” 

“I know, I know. It's okay.” 

 

He consoled you for a while, patient, kind, until you had no tears left to shed and your body calmed down again. He waited for you to find your composure before guiding you back through the city; and by the time you reached it you face was back to normal. You wore a casual smile as you dined with the soldiers like nothing had happened, laughed with them, drank with them, and even took part in a few silly, harmless bets – of which you won most of them – before finally excusing yourself and cheerfully hopping up the stairs. Yet when the door closed behind you, your expression slowly fell again. 

You let gravity pull your back onto the bed and let it knock the air from your lungs. You had enjoyed tonight, yet not as fully as you would have without your thoughts running rampant inside your mind. Love in stories always seemed so fulfilling, like it made everything around you ten times better; but you only felt worse. How could you focus when his eyes and voice clouded your thinking? How could you tell stories without being fearful of what your brain might leak? 

You needed to tell him.  
No. You shouldn't.  
But what if he reciprocated?  
Of course he didn't.  
But what if he did? 

You let out another deep sigh. Arguing with yourself must be the lowest of points a person could reach, but the feeling lingered. Maybe... maybe you didn't have to tell him now – maybe you could tell him before leaving. Yeah. Once you reached the Palace of Yllgard, then you would tell him. If he wanted nothing to do with you any longer you could just leave and see it as a closed chapter, and if he reciprocated-

thin lips conquering yours-

You turned on your side, crossing your arms over your twisting stomach and closing your eyes. You couldn't hope for something like that. No, princes married princesses, became kings and queens, and they would rule whole empires. You were not even close to being a princess, and the thought of ruling an empire only filled you with anxiety. You were not made for the world of royal blood. 

And yet your heart stung when you imagined those blue-green eyes aimed at a woman dressed in expensive clothing, when you imagined those slender, elegant hands gently cupping her cheeks and their lips touching- it was torture. Great, another one of your flaws: jealousy, or maybe even envy towards the queen he would undoubtedly marry. 

“You have become considerably better in keeping your magic under control, yet you still can't hide it when something troubles you greatly. Tell me.” 

Your heart was racing. Why couldn't he knock on the door and ask permission to come in, like his brother would every evening? 

“It is of no importance.” 

He walked over to the edge of your bed, slowly, as if he feared you might jump up and leave. “I thought you were not going to distance yourself from me?” His tone was teasing, but his words were without jest or mockery. 

You slowly moved onto your other side, glancing up at the fair-skinned prince. His eyes stood kind, warm, even, and a wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I am glad to have you as a friend, is all.” 

He frowned. “Has the soldier cut your bond?” 

“No.” 

Your answer only confused him more, and he sighed. “Often you are open and honest, showing your emotions and saying what you think, but at times like this you conceal your thoughts and feelings behind encrypted sentences and vague responses. You know well enough not to lie to me, so you twist your words until it is impossible for me to find their meaning. It is fascinating, yet frustrating.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Will you ever tell me what is truly bothering you, my lady?” 

You rolled onto your back and lay an arm over your face. You hated keeping this from him. You wanted to tell him so bad, and it would only take one breath to do so; but the stakes were too high, too precious for you to risk them, and so you let the pain wash over you and accepted it as the consequences of your decision. 

“Someday. I promise.”

“Then I shall wait patiently.” 

 

The next day, the last one you had in Mikill, was spent much like the previous one. You and Loki visited the kind healer again, staying for two hours or so as you copied notes and recipes, and spent the rest of the day in the library studying and reading – both for yourselves and to each other. It was peaceful, almost somewhat domestic. Were you one for domestic life? You had to admit that your life in Blacktree had been a little bit boring even though you had been content; and you didn't want the thrill of the adventure and the travelling to end yet. 

But this type of domestic was... different. Casual conversations, comfortable silences, just enjoying his presence; you didn't think you would ever grow tired of it, and if you closed your eyes and pushed all the negative thoughts away you could almost imagine having a life with the prince. Even though you hated yourself for throwing oil on an already blazing fire, there was nothing wrong with simply fantasizing about it, right? You had already established that he couldn't read minds by mentally calling him all kinds of degrading titles and screaming for a while, and he hadn't even blinked. It could be that he was still deceiving you – he was a trickster, after all – but it wasn't very likely; because if he could truly read your thoughts then he would have known of your feelings and would already have broken your friendship. In conclusion: you were safe to think whatever you wanted. 

And so you imagined that delicate emotion in his eyes to be affection or fondness, imagined that his head resting in your lap was an expression of both your romantic interest, and imagined that he liked hearing your voice because he would feel his heart glow – like yours did whenever he was the one that spoke. You allowed the butterflies to flutter in your belly, allowed your stomach to twist pleasurably, and allowed your soul to brighten when he smiled at you – as long as you made sure it didn't show. And, at the end of the day, you knew for sure it hadn't showed. 

“You have learned to hide your magic from me in only a few days time. Are you that desperate to keep your secrets safe from me?” His gaze was, as always, intense; but a smirk pulled on the corners of his lips. 

You put the book back on the shelf you had taken it from, two left to go. “I thought you didn't want it to bother you any longer? And it's not like you can figure out all my secrets simply by feeling my magic.” 

“If only it were that easy, indeed.” 

“What are the secrets of a commoner to you, anyway, my prince?” You slid the second book back in its spot. 

“They intrigue me,” he stated with a voice almost incredulous, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You walked to the next bookcase. He followed suit. “Surely there are more interesting ones out there, belonging to more interesting people.” 

“And you dare to claim that the only person to ever befriend the Trickster God is not interesting enough?”

“Low of status, low of interest.” 

He was silent for a moment, but you didn't expect any kind of response and so you just searched for the last empty slot, found it, and gently pushed the third book into it before turning back to the raven-haired man beside you. The way he looked at you gave you goosebumps. Was he... angry? 

“Why is it that you think so lowly of yourself? Is being the royal healer or the friend of a prince not enough status for you to see your value?” 

“Bloodline cannot be erased.” 

“The heritage of blood is not important.” 

You met his gaze without hesitation. “Is it not? Is it truly not of importance? Then can you keep my gaze and tell me that you, or other royalty for that matter, do not look down upon us? On the farmers, the villagers, even those raised in cities as great as Mikill? Do you not think of us as less, simply because we were not born surrounded by the walls of the palace?” 

“I wasn't born surrounded by those walls either,” he hissed back, eyes turning cold. “I was left by my father to starve on Jotunheim. Does that make me any less a prince?” 

“You were raised by the king and queen of Asgard - and wasn't Laufey the king of his entire realm? It's different, Loki, my blood and your blood. You can never truly be a commoner as much as I can never be royal.” 

His eyes bore into you, hard and frigid, and he visibly clenched his jaw, but he didn't speak. People were beginning to cast glances at the two of you; some confused, others irritated. It was better to get out of here.  
You turned away from the prince, started walking towards the exit, and kept your voice low. 

“I am just saying that my secrets are not worth your time, my prince.” 

He followed closely, and you could hear the frustration in his step. “And you do not think that is something I can decide for myself?” 

You left the library, but as soon as the door fell shut you stopped and turned to face him again. “Do not say I haven't warned you then, if you still wish to know my secrets so eagerly. They would merely bore you and you would regret ever pursuing them, but it will be of your own doing.” 

He wouldn't find out about you if you could just convince him that you were boring, that it was a complete and utter waste of his time. If he would just stop prying then the things you kept hidden were safe. You would be safe. Your feelings would be safe – and his, too. Why was he interested, anyway? You let out a sigh, your gaze losing its fire and your voice turning softer, weaker, more pleading. 

“I just don't understand.” 

His gaze softened as well and he reached for your shoulders, only to let his hands fall back to his sides again. Was he hesitant to touch you? Your chest contracted painfully at the thought, but your heart eased at the realisation that he might just be afraid to scare you away. Did he value your company as much as you valued his? 

He didn't avert his eyes, and suddenly you could see vulnerability amongst the hues, on his lips, in his posture. “Can you blame me for wanting to know everything about the only person that ever dared to get close to me? That doesn't treat me like an outcast?” He regained most of his composure in a fraction of a second, and the vulnerability was almost gone. Almost. “You are the only one who speaks freely to me, who lectures me, who treats me like an equal. Even if you seem to remember my status – and your status – sometimes, you never shy away from a discussion that would have truly enraged me, had it been anyone else. You dare to call me a fool and an idiot, unafraid of punishment, and instead you offer me so much kindness that I hardly know what to do with all of it. How could I possibly think of you as less? How could I possibly not be intrigued by your actions and motivation? By you?” 

He sighed, eyes turning distant for a few seconds before focusing on yours again. There was tenderness, now, mixed with confusion and something akin to hopelessness. It was hard to keep your heart under control. 

“Your benevolence overwhelms me at times, my lady. You are a mystery I seem to be unable to solve, and it frustrates me. I had always deemed myself too clever, too astute to be fooled, and yet here I am, utterly confused by something as elementary as a smile.” 

 

How... how were you to respond? You looked at him, a bit dumbfounded. Had you truly confused him that much, simply by being kind to him? Your heart reached out to him, compassion swirling within you. He shouldn't be perplexed simply by cordiality, it should have been plentiful in his life like it should be in anyone's life, like it had been in yours; could he not see how this was how he was supposed to be treated by those around him? 

You hesitated to speak, afraid to say the wrong thing and sadden him. But what could you possibly say? You parted your lips but the words wouldn't come and so you closed them again, noticing how his eyes followed. He expected you to respond. But in what way?

“If I... if something like that ever confuses you again, you are welcome to ask. It is not much, as I often cannot explain why I do the things I do - I just... well, do them. I will answer any question as truthfully as I can – unless, of course, it is about something I would rather not say. Secrets are meant to be kept, not to be shared. If I decide to share one after all, please still treat it as something not meant for others to hear.” 

You averted your gaze and hesitated again. Should you say how you wanted to tell him everything, but that you just couldn't? That you simply were not ready for him to know yet? That you feared he would leave you behind if you did tell him? No, it would probably only increase his curiosity. 

You met his eyes once more. “Thank you for not thinking of me as uninteresting. I'm- ... Thank you.” It gave you hope, and even though it hurt _so much_ , your heart couldn't help but cling to it. You tried to push the feeling away, but it lingered – and you knew it would for a while. “Yet I must ask for your patience when it comes to the things I am not ready to tell yet.” 

He nodded, a genuine smile on his lips and in his eyes. “Then, once more, I will promise you that I shall wait patiently and for as long as you need. Do not think my curiosity will lessen nor that I will forget about it, however.” 

You let out a soft chuckle. “I wouldn't dare, my prince.” 

He smirked, stepping closer and laying a hand on the small of your back. “Good.” 

 

And the scenery changed from city to inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> A long chapter this time! To make up for the somewhat shorter ones ;3  
> I hope you liked it!


	21. XXI

“Are you ready to leave?”

You answered Thor's smile with a nod and hurriedly brought your empty bowl to the bar, where you said a quick goodbye to the inn owner. You were a bit disappointed that you couldn't spend yet another day at the library, but the prospect of visiting another city – and an even larger one at that, as Thor had supplied with a bright grin – was more than enough to keep you from sulking. 

Once outside you made your way over to the black steed and let the man on its back help you up. The two of you had perfected the movements after doing it so often, turning it from quite clumsy into rather elegant, and a smile slipped on your lips when you saw the almost mesmerized glances of the others – but it disappeared again when you met the less entranced gaze of Brant. 

A warning. 

You nodded almost unnoticeably, knowing his offer to ride with him still stood, but he knew you wouldn't take it. 

Loki seemed to have noticed the soldier's glance as well, and you could almost feel the irritation and arrogance of both men crackling like electricity in the space between them. Luckily Thor moved his horse between the two men, meeting your eyes as he started a conversation. 

“Even though I have not seen you often these last few days, I hope you have enjoyed yourself.” 

You nodded, enthusiasm making your eyes sparkle. “Very much so, thank you. I have been able to further my studies on medicine and magic, and I cannot wait for us to arrive in the next city so that I may continue it once more. If it hadn't been for your offer none of this would have been possible, and I am forever grateful.” 

He laughed. “I am happy to hear it, but I must warn you that I will need your presence for an hour or two. You need a new dress, and perhaps a sword of your own if you plan on leaving after we arrive at the palace.” 

Your eyes widened a bit. “My apologies, prince Thor, but I do not have the coin for such things. If you and your brother hadn't paid for the food and the inns, my pouch would have been empty already. I cannot pay you back; it would be a waste to spend such large sums on me.” 

“Nonsense,” he beamed amiably, and for a moment cast a glance at the man sitting behind you before meeting your eyes again. “I do not expect you to pay for it, not when we arrive nor afterwards. You can see it as payment for your services, if that puts you at ease.” 

You hesitated. You knew your clothes were unfit for the palace of Yllgard, and even in Mikill had you gotten a few strange glances when walking down the streets, but wouldn't wearing a dress of finer materials insult those who made it? Yet not wearing a suitable garment in the palace would most definitely be a massive insult to the royal family, or even put the other members of the party in disgrace. You held back a sigh and nodded. 

“It does, thank you.”

His eyes were kind, caring, brotherly, and soothed your worries; but there was something else, too. Some kind of conspiracy-like expectation, or maybe even a kind of joyous suspicion. Fear settled in your stomach. Did he know? Had he found out about your feelings for his brother? Then why did he seem happy about it? No, that couldn't be it – but then what else?  
Thor glanced at his brother again, but you couldn't see how the raven-haired man responded. It was no use trying to figure them out, so you just let it go. Maybe it was some sort of sibling thing you didn't understand. 

 

The party passed through the gates, leaving Mikill behind to disappear into the mist. It was still early; the sun had only just began to rise and most birds had not even begun their songs yet, but it was one of those peaceful mornings in which everything seemed to be at ease. The light was gentle, the breeze was calm, and your mind stayed quiet. 

After a while conversations arose amongst the men, not loud enough to disrupt the tranquility but casual enough for everyone to be without fear of an attack. It was logical, seeing as you were riding on a paved road with quite some space on either side – you could see the enemy coming from any direction and respond swiftly if needed. You let your magic flow through the air around you, though, careful not to touch the prince behind you but thoroughly searching for bodies hidden between the trees – just to make sure your sense of safety wouldn't be your downfall. When you found no threat to be looming, your heart calmed as well. 

It was then that prince Loki moved one hand to gingerly take hold of one of yours, and pulled it towards the reins. 

“Would my lady like to ride for a while?” 

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and his teasing use of your title brought a blush to your cheeks. Good thing he couldn't see it. 

“Tired already, my prince? I might have overestimated your stamina, then.” You made sure there was only jest in your voice and no hint of the colour on your cheeks or the butterflies in your stomach, but you took the reins from him anyway and curled your fingers around the leather. His lady - you hoped he hadn't heard your heart skipping a beat.

“Oh, my stamina is fine, worry not.” He chuckled darkly, leaning forward ever so slightly and laying his hands on your hips. “It might even be beyond your wildest imagination.” 

You tensed, your stomach twisting wildly and images of pale skin illuminated by the moon flooding your thoughts. Fingers, touch, lips- you elbowed his ribs and he chuckled again. His teasing truly had no limits, hadn't it? 

“I had never imagined a prince to be so perverted.” 

His lips brushed past your ear. “It is only as perverted as your own mind makes it, my lady.”

A shiver went down your spine and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up straight. You huffed out a sigh in irritation, hoping your insides would soon calm down. “Will your teasing never end?”

But he just snickered, responding no further, and slightly tightened his grip on your hips. For a moment you feared he would move his hands up to your waist, under the edge of your shirt and onto your skin-  
You quickly pushed the thought away. It was simply teasing; he wouldn't go as fas as touching you without your consent. But... would his cool hands on your stomach calm the butterflies within?  
Yet the violence of the fluttering only increased at the idea and you were forced to move your mind elsewhere again. No, it most definitely wouldn't tame them – it would only turn them vicious. 

Luckily his hands never moved and the anxiety faded, allowing your heart to calm down - and yet, even when caught up in conversations with the soldiers, you were constantly aware of his presence behind you. 

It was torture. 

Your heart tried to convince your rational mind that yes, you would indeed give your consent if he asked permission to continue – but you refused to give in to it. You were not to be treated as something to enjoy only to be thrown away, even if you wanted him to have all of you, to have every single inch of your body and soul. That you longed for him on an emotional level was bad enough – that you longed for him on a physical level was something you would take with you into your grave. It wouldn't be worth the end of your friendship. It wouldn't be worth the pain. 

 

Around nightfall you had won the battle against yourself and had managed to block out the yearning for his touch. Dinner had been made and had, moss had been gathered, your bed had been finished, and the prince's men had formed an almost protective circle around you as they lay their heads to rest; leaving Thor and Loki to sleep further off from the campfire.  
It was probably far from smart for them to position themselves this way as their princes, who should be their utmost priority, lay mostly unprotected, and you, a simple healer, were the one who could be done little harm. 

You knew Loki didn't sleep much and would probably stay guarded for most of the night, yet it didn't truly soothe your worries. Sure, you had 'stocked up' on the herbs that neutralised the poison of the enemies, and yes, you knew that Loki could protect himself with magic as well as heal himself with it; but what if he was distracted? What if they attacked without him noticing in time, and they shot him in his head or his heart? You wouldn't be able to save him. He would die. 

Your chest contracted so strongly and so painfully that it was difficult to keep the air from escaping your lungs. 

Of course his death would mean yours as well: you would have failed your one purpose and his passing would be on your hands – but it was the personal pain that you feared. Merely thinking about the life fading from his eyes made your heart feel like it was turning to dust. But at least you wouldn't have to mourn for long; they would most likely behead you on the spot. It would be an effective way of getting rid of your feelings. 

But as soon as you felt your thoughts turn dark you opened your eyes and focused on the canopy. If only you could see the stars. Unchanging, bringing light to the darkness that so many feared, soothing like the night on the rooftop. You sighed without making a sound. It felt like you were slowly ceasing to be your own person. Could you not enjoy the time spent on your own anymore? Could you no longer be independent of anyone else? Or keep your thoughts and feelings separate? 

You didn't sleep well that night. Or the night after. 

It was during the third afternoon of riding that you finally felt like your body would shut down out of pure exhaustion. 

“Loki?”

“Hm?” 

“Would you mind if I slept for a bit? It's just that I haven't been able to get much rest the last few nights.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“You think that it will be easier to fall asleep while riding a horse, the only thing that keeps you from falling being a bitter man with a history of violence?” There was jest in his voice, yet it felt empty. 

You sighed. “How many times must I tell you that I do not think of you like that.” 

“Then how do you think of me, my lady?” 

It was a good sign that a smirk crept back into his voice, but his question was dangerous. 

“As a kind friend with a hurtful past who will most definitely allow me to rest when I so politely ask for it.” 

You could hear how your irritation began to manifest itself in your insolence, and you feared your company would become even less enjoyable if you stayed awake much longer; not to mention how your speech would become bolder. You were too tired to get into a verbal fight. 

But just as you were about to plead you felt an arm wrapping around your waist and gently pulling you against him. 

“Foolish woman. You should know by now that you do not even need to ask for things such as this.” His voice was soft, his tone almost tender, and if your mind hadn't been as heavy you were sure your heart would have made cartwheels. 

But instead you rested your head back against his chest, only barely noticing how he rested his chin on top of it before your eyes fell shut and your mind slipped into darkness. 

 

“'We've arrived.” 

His voice gingerly pulled you back into consciousness and, after a soft groan, you opened your eyes and blinked until your vision sharpened. Some of the men were already getting off their horses and moving them towards the stable behind the expensive-looking inn. You glanced around. Every building in the entire street looked expensive, as did the people walking in and out of them. 

They wore garments of finer make than the civilians of Mikill had worn, with sashes and belts adorned with organic-looking designs in embroidery or metal. Both women and men wore necklaces with pendants or jewels, some had decorative cuffs around their wrists, and some even had metal piercing their ears. It shocked you that people were willing to mutilate their flesh to show their wealth – yet you had to admit it looked rather beautiful.  
You had expected to see more colour, but maybe dyes were still too expensive; as most still wore duller colours such as browns, cremes, and whites, like you had seen in other places. 

You sat forward to relieve the prince of your weight and hid a yawn behind the back of your hand. Loki's arm was still around your waist, however. 

“Thank you, my prince. I'm all right now.” 

“Slept well, then?” He retracted his arm and elegantly maneuvered himself off his steed, offering you his hand to help you down as well. You took it.

“As I said, I am perfectly capable of sleeping in your close proximity.” 

He grinned and used the moment your feet touched the ground to pull you forward against his chest, looking down in your eyes with dark mischief in his. “Are you proposing to share my bed?” 

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you quickly pushed yourself away before your stomach would twist itself apart. “You know very well I am proposing nothing of the sort.” 

“Then choose your words more carefully, my lady, or I might get the wrong idea.” Amusement made his eyes shimmer, so you quickly averted your gaze and crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“Is it not your interpretation and therefore your mind that is at fault here?” 

He laughed when you shot him a glare as well, and that delicate emotion crept into his gaze again. “Quick of reply, as expected.” 

It couldn't be affection... right? It couldn't be something other than friendship, right? Was this flirting? Was he flirting with you? Hope made your heart speed up, and you clenched your fists. You would keep the promise you had made with yourself: you would tell him when you arrived at the palace, and no sooner. Just a few more days. Until then – until his answer – you didn't allow yourself to hope, you _couldn't_ allow yourself to hope, and your shoulders fell a little. 

Remember what you are, and where your place is.

“Anyway, your brother has requested my presence, so if you'll excuse me.” 

And you walked past him, leaving him to take care of Egil himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA *shrieks* This is definitely one of my favourite chapters. So much fluff ;u;  
> Shit man I ship this so fucking hard. 
> 
> Question! Last chapter almost all of you wanted them to confess - but who do you think would do so first? Our love-stricken healer, or the soft-hearted prince? Or will Brant spill the beans? I'm curious to hear what all of you think :3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it! 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	22. XXII

Loki was momentarily forgotten when Thor guided you through the broad streets of Mestr. The architecture was aesthetic, sophisticated, and every person looked more intelligent and more beautiful than you could ever wish to be. It was intimidating to say the least.  
Many stopped to stare at the man at your side, the red in his outfit catching their eyes and his handsome features keeping them locked onto him. Thor was a beautiful man, there was no denying it; with his golden hair, sky-blue eyes, and well-groomed beard, like a summer's day itself had given birth to him. It was only logical that people turned their heads to catch a glimpse. 

But all these attractive women and men staring at him did nothing to you; if anything it only made you feel out of place with your cheap and simple clothes. If it had been Loki at your side, however – your heart contracted. Loki was, in your eyes especially, even more handsome than his brother. Slicked back hair framing his pale neck and sharp jawline, eyes like jewels over pronounced cheekbones, lips thin and elegant; where Thor could have been birthed by the day, Loki was a being of the night. You had compared him to the universe before, to the colours and stars you had seen that night, and still you were convinced it fit him.  
He was soothing, consoling; yet held that hint of danger like the darkness, that strange pull that lured out those who were too curious to be aware of the possible threats that may lay ahead. It allowed the darker parts of yourself to manifest, to grow, to evolve, and it would already be too late when you finally noticed it. 

But you liked it - it was enticing, maybe even thrilling. Parts of yourself you had barely ever thought about now seemed to take over most of your thoughts. You wouldn't mind being enveloped by the night, to have his arms around you and imagine yourself loved and protected by it, by him, even if it meant giving in to your darker side. 

 

You only realised how absorbed you had been in your thinking when Thor opened the door to a shop and a bell rang to announce your arrival. '

The man behind the counter bowed deeply. “Prince Thor, I've been expecting you.” 

“Long time no see, Svend! But I am not here for my own,” He glanced at you, smiling bright, and the older man's eyes followed. 

“Ah, for the lady!” Svend's eyes scanned your garments, and you smiled apologetically when you noticed how he had difficulty keeping himself from judging. But the man quickly found his composure again and smiled bright. “Tove will take your measurements. Come,” he turned, waiting for you to follow. 

You cast a hesitant glance at the prince but he nodded encouragingly. “I will wait outside.” 

And so you followed Svend into one of the other rooms, where his assistant, Tove, was cutting through beautiful brown cloth. Every wall was hidden behind cabinets and shelves filled with stacks and rolls of fabric in all the shades you had seen today and more. The table in the middle of the room was littered with boxes containing needles, beads, and patches, and whole collections of thread on spools stood underneath it. 

Before you knew it you had been put on a little pedestal, and Svend left the room as Tove requested you to take off your clothes. You looked at her, just to make sure she wasn't joking; and when her smile stayed kind but serious you averted your eyes and took everything off except for your underpants and the linen wrapped around your chest. She gave it a curious look. 

“Do you not have a corset, miss?” 

“Ah, eh, no, I am afraid not. Will it be necessary for the dress?” 

She thought for a moment. “No, I think not, but you might need to bind your chest a bit lower for it not to show. I could also craft one in, if you'd like?” 

“Oh, yes, I would appreciate that - if it's not too much work?” 

She smiled warmly. “Not at all miss, and even if it was I wouldn't have minded. I am lucky to have this as my profession and I enjoy every moment of it. Someday I hope to become a seamstress at the palace, but until then I've got a lot to learn; and every day gives me that opportunity. ” 

You copied her smile, respect rising for the woman holding measuring tape along your leg. “I feel the same about my profession.” When she glanced up, curiosity in her eyes again, you answered her unspoken question. “I'm a herbalist.” 

Her eyes went wide. “A healer at the court of Asgard?” 

“No- no, sadly; I'm from a small village between the mountains. Their healer passed away during an attack and I'm only their substitute until we reach the palace.” 

She moved to wrap the tape around your waist. “And after that? Will you go back?” 

“I'm not sure... I might move to the city after visiting my parents, so I can visit the library in my spare time. There's much I still would like to learn about.” 

“I admire your passion, miss. Will you consider settling in Mestr? I believe the city is in need of healers, and it certainly is in need of people as passionate as us.” 

It would be quite the ride from Blacktree, and you might get homesick after a while, but the advantages were quite great. You hadn't seen the library yet, but if the size of the city was anything to go by you knew it would be massive – it was tempting to stay for that reason alone. And, if your friendship with Loki ended like you predicted it would, Mestr would be far, far away from him and any talk about him.

“I will consider it.” 

And when she smiled again you couldn't help but copy it, feeling much more at ease than before. Within a few minutes she had noted down all the measurements she needed. She made a few quick calculations as you finished dressing, then guided you into another room. 

“Pick any colour and fabric you like.” 

Where browns and cremes had filled the last room, this one was filled with a myriad of colours that was almost unimaginably great in range; and the fabric seemed of even finer make. Your eyes widened at the beauty of it all. 

“Are you sure? I am content simply wearing brown-” 

“You're going to the palace, of course you should be wearing colour! Otherwise they might mistake you for one of the servants, or a commoner gone astray.” 

But you were just a servant, in a way, and you definitely were a commoner, yet the determined look in her eyes told you that you could never win the argument. You scanned the array of colours and let your fingers glide over the different rolls of cloth, stopping when one caught your attention. It was soft, of a lighter make, and had a beautiful colour that reminded you of moss after the rain, or of the woods at home. 

“This one is pretty,” you mumbled, moving it between your fingers. It was so well-woven that it was unlikely you would rip it, no matter how clumsy your actions would be once you were wearing it. You didn't want to destroy something where so much time had been put into; not to mention how incredibly awkward it would be. 

She watched you for a moment, eyes switching between you and the chosen fabric. “Does the other prince travel with you as well?” 

You hummed in affirmation, still slightly dazed by the idea that you would be able to allowed to wear something as beautiful and expensive as this. When you met her gaze there was some kind of hesitation, maybe even fear, so you sent her a reassuring smile.

“He is not nearly as bad as people claim him to be.” 

Still, she appeared to worry about something, but after a moment seemed to push it away and answered your smile. “Thank you for your time, miss; I have everything I need to make the dress. It should be done in two days at most.” 

Your eyes went wide. “So soon? That is amazing – but please don't tire yourself.” 

Her smiled widened at your praise and worry. “You're very kind, miss. I'll be all right.” 

She led you to the entrance room again, where you said goodbye to her and Svend and stepped outside to greet Thor. There was brotherly affection in his eyes when he spoke, and even though it slightly confused you, it was welcome.

“Have you been able to find anything to your liking?” You nodded, unable to keep your eyes from sparkling with excitement, and he laughed warmly. “Good. We will stay until your dress is done. It will only be a few hours riding before we arrive in Yllgard, and one more until we reach the palace. We will have about an hour to get ready before our meeting with the royal family.” 

Anxiety tingled inside of you. “Are there any etiquettes I should know of?” 

“Just do what we do, and you should be fine.” 

It wasn't a very satisfying answer – far from it, if you had to be honest, but Thor didn't seem to be aware of it and started walking back towards the inn. You would ask Loki Later. For now, you let your eyes glide over the diverse things displayed behind the glass of shops and parlors, and small trinkets in windowsills of homes. 

Suddenly music reached your ears.  
You tried to glance over the heads of those walking in front of you, tried to see where it was coming from, but to no avail - luckily the prince spotted your attempts and smiled, offering you his arm. You took it without a moment of hesitation and let him guide you through the crowd, to the marketplace, where people stood in a circle around a wooden platform carrying four people playing instruments you had never seen in your life. All around it were men and women dancing, swirling in circles and patterns on the rhythm provided by those on the stage, and the crowd was cheering and clapping along; bright smiles on so many different faces. It didn't take long for you to be caught up in their enthusiasm as well. The music was incredible, unlike anything you had ever heard before, and the dances were so different from those in Blacktree-

“Enjoying yourself without me?” 

The words being whispered in your ear sent shivers down your back, making your heart miss a few beats and your stomach twist violently. 

“Brother!” Thor greeted the raven-haired man with a booming voice and an almost harsh pat on the man's shoulder, his pale face contorting by the sheer force of it. “Summoned by the music?” 

“I was wondering how much longer the two of you were going to take,” he responded with acted irritation, making you chuckle. His eyes met yours, but you just smiled brightly. 

“Stay and enjoy the music with us for a while!”

He kept your gaze for a little bit longer, but eventually gave a curt, almost unnoticeable nod, and your smile widened even more before you turned your back to him so you could watch the people dance again. Part of you had difficulty focusing however – he was standing so close to you it was hart not to notice it. Luckily, after a while, your curiosity and enthusiasm pushed the prince's presence to the back of your mind, and you were able to fully enjoy the spectacle again.

 

About three songs later did you see him. A man, standing near the edge of the circle of people, staring straight at you with a gaze that was intense to the point you could feel fear spark to life in your being. You sent a smile, hoping it was just some kind of weird flirting thing, but he didn't respond. Something was off. Something was definitely off. He kept your gaze without as much as blinking and for some reason you couldn't avert your eyes, couldn't look away; so you cautiously reached back until your hand found Loki's. You could feel him tense for a moment, before taking your hand and moving to stand at your side instead of behind you. 

“Is everything all right?” 

With difficulty you pried your eyes away from the stranger and met the prince's gaze. “Someone's staring at me.” 

You looked back at where you had seen him, Loki following your gaze – but the man was no longer there. You squeezed his hand in fear and your heart sped up. Where had he gone? Was he still around? Your eyes restlessly scanned the crowd, panic taking hold of you, but couldn't find him. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.  
Of course, it wasn't very difficult to slip away unseen in a gathering of people as large as this, but why would he stare at you only to disappear the moment you looked away? You turned your head, every hair on your body standing up straight, and you could almost hear the blood pumping through your veins. You needed to get away, to get out. 

Loki managed to gingerly squeeze your hand even though your tight grip was most likely cutting off the supply of blood to his fingers, and spoke your name with worry in both his voice and eyes. 

“Take me away, please.” You tried to stay calm but every fibre in your body was telling you to run. 

He nodded, and turned to his brother. “Thor.” The golden-haired man answered his gaze, and his smile fell when he saw the panic in your eyes. He nodded, too, and the three of you maneuvered yourselves a path back to the streets. 

Loki kept holding your hand and stayed close to you, his shoulder touching yours every now and then as the two of you walked side by side, Thor staying a bit back and keeping an eye out behind you. Your eyes couldn't stop scanning the streets, the faces, the shadows and the alleys. He could be anywhere. Was he out to kill you? But why? You had never seen him in your entire life for as far as you knew, so there was no way you could have wronged him or insulted him or something like that. But his gaze hadn't been friendly – maybe... maybe _hungry_ was the right word. The man was starving for something. Revenge? Murder? Or was your body his target? You shivered at the thought and increased your pace. 

You reached the inn within minutes but you didn't stop to sit down in the tavern; you let go of Loki's hand and bolted up the stairs. 

“Stay here and keep watch, I'll go after her.” Loki quickly followed you, calling out the number of the chamber the three of you would share. 

You burst into the room and immediately walked over to the window, grabbing the sill as you scanned the street below. Had he followed you? Was he close? Did he know where you stayed? Would he be able to get in? A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and short yelp escaped from your lungs as you turned around to smack your harasser – only to have your wrist caught by slender fingers. 

“Calm down.” His voice was soothing, his gaze calmed your heart, but the fear stayed. “Tell me what happened.” 

Nothing had happened. Nothing at all. And yet here you were, trembling. It hadn't only been his glance, hadn't it? There was something else, too, something you couldn't put your finger on. Something like instinct, maybe? You didn't know. You hated not knowing. 

“There was a man – he stared at me, a-and-” Suddenly he had been gone. He could be anywhere. “I have a bad feeling about him, Loki, it's like I know I should run even though I have never even seen him before-” 

He let go of your trembling hand and stepped forward, softly pulling you into an embrace while making shushing sounds. He held you against him, saying nothing, and you closed your eyes. You had come to associate his smell with safety, and your heart found a steady pace again. By the realms, you loved this man; whose touch was enough to wash your fear away, whose voice was enough to stop your body from shaking. You wanted to tell him, needed to tell him-

No. No, you were just upset. Stick to the plan. 

You took in a deep, shaking breath, held it, and slowly released it again. Everything was going to be fine. You didn't even know why you responded so strongly. A few more moments passed, just standing in each others embrace. 

He let go, leaning back so he could look you in your eyes, and smirked almost gently. “The offer to share my bed still stands.” 

You chuckled, glad you could focus on something as silly as fighting a blush again. His teasing kept you grounded, kept you from giving in to anxiety and fear and kept you from breaking because of it. It had even helped you deal with getting over Audun's words. Did he know how his words had saved you? How they were like a crutch to keep you upright?

“I'm almost inclined to take it.” 

For a moment confusion entered his eyes, but he masterly hid it behind mischief. He set another step forward, nearly pinning you against the windowsill. “What is holding you back?”

“Apart from the fact that it is highly inappropriate, that your brother as well as everyone else might get the wrong idea, that I might kick you in my sleep and that the bed is simply too small to fit both of us?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

You let out a little sigh, glancing over your shoulder and through the window as you tried to ignore how close he stood. “I just hope my instinct was wrong, and that there is nothing to worry about.” 

The street below was filled with people, yet to your relief not one of them stopped to glance upwards. When you returned your gaze to meet that of the prince your heart stopped beating for a moment. Tenderness, determination-

“You're safe with me.” 

By Yggdrasil, how hard it was to keep yourself from flinging your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. But you managed – if only just. Instead, you sent him a smile that matched the tenderness and determination in his eyes, mixed with gratitude and trust. You hoped he could read all of it. 

“I know,” you leaned forward without thinking about it and hugged him. “Thank you.” 

You let go again, sent him another smile, slipped away from your spot between his body and the windowsill, and made your way over to the door. He didn't move, as if frozen, and you tilted your head a bit. 

“Aren't you coming downstairs for dinner? I would feel safer if you were there.” You smirked mischievously, even though there was truth in your words, and he seemed to thaw again. 

He chuckled. “Of course. I couldn't leave my lady unprotected now, could I?” 

Again, the twisted placement of your title sent your insides twisting in all the right ways, so you quickly opened the door and disappeared down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked you guys who you thought would confess first, and your comments and ideas have made me laugh and swoon so hard haha ♡  
> Here are the results! (I will keep these updated in case more people add their speculations)
> 
>  **Confession-Tally:**  
>  Healer: I  
> Loki: ~~IIII~~  
>  Brant/other characters: II  
> Idc I just want them to be happy: III
> 
> I love that I had to add that last option ;u; 
> 
> But yeah, hoped you enjoyed this chapter as much as the others!  
> I've also started a mini-fic based on Loki as a cat, called Cats & Criminals, so go check that out as well ;D
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	23. XXIII

You had been able to convince Loki once again to come with you to the library. Not that he had ever sulked or resisted - he had even seemed rather happy every time you had asked for his company, but his willingness surprised you every time nonetheless. 

This morning he had offered you his arm to keep you close and to prevent separation in the busy streets; something you feared now more than ever. Your eyes had been constantly scanning your surroundings while you held on tight, feeling like his presence was the only thing keeping the panic at bay, and, after a while, you had found the massive building standing apart from the streets around it. You hadn't spent much time admiring its architecture this time, however – you had immediately stepped inside and closed the door behind the two of you. 

But slowly the fear had faded, and as you were copying drawings, recipes, and properties, you found yourself at peace again. Loki had been absorbed in his own book for a while – not the one he made you read every time, as you were sure he was saving that one for the last hours before you went back to the inn, but a random one he had taken from a shelf without really looking. You wondered what it was about. His focus was completely without interruption, paying no attention to the strands of black hair falling past his face and almost automatically bringing his finger to his lips before flipping the page. It was mesmerizing, hypnotising, and you caught yourself staring. Before you could look away, however, you saw the corner of his lip curl up. 

“Do you like what you see?” 

You rolled your eyes, ignoring how your heart missed a beat there. “I'm simply amazed by your focus, my prince. Sorry for interrupting you.” 

He chuckled and closed his book with a soft thud. “Quite all right. Have you been able to further your studies to your heart's content?” 

You nodded, a satisfied smile on your lips as you glanced at the book in your lap. “It's almost overwhelming, but I love it.” So many things you had learned, so much information you had soaked up, your head would start spinning if you tried to recount it all again. 

He copied your smile, eyes soft. “Maybe you should give your mind some rest.” He patted his lap, and when your eyes grew wider and your cheeks red his smile turned into a grin. “It is only fair if I return the favour.” 

You pressed your lips together to keep the witty replies back and instead put your book to the side, twisted on your spot, and slowly lay your head on his legs. It was... surprisingly comfortable. You knew your cheeks had gained even more colour and dared not to meet his gaze again, so you turned your face away from him and closed your eyes.  
You tensed for a second when his fingertips moved through your hair. Then, slowly, you melted into his touch; and you couldn't stop the tranquil sigh from escaping your lungs. He chuckled.

“Easily fooled, yet easily pleased as well.” 

“Oh shut up, Silvertongue,” you muttered, and opened your eyes to send him a glare – but immediately regretted your decision. There was that delicate emotion again. Mixed with the gentle caressing of your locks your heart felt like it was about to combust and you quickly averted your gaze once more. 

He started reading. His smooth voice brought the story to life inside your mind and his touch nearly lulled you to sleep, but you managed to stay awake by sheer willpower and maybe the desire to enjoy it a bit longer, too. The way his fingers brushed over your scalp, through strands of hair, all the way to the end in a slow and smooth motion – you didn't think you would get this experience ever again in your life, and so you soaked up every detail of it. 

You didn't know how much time passed.  
An hour? Two? Three? It was hard to tell while in a state of being half conscious and half caught in a forming dream. But then he stopped, and as you opened your eyes he lay the book beside him – but kept his fingers moving through your locks. You could lose track of time if you kept staring into his mellow gaze.

“Do you like what you see?” Your serene expression morphed into a teasing smirk, and he laughed; loudly and genuinely. 

“A woman with so fair a face, resting in my lap with a playful glance in her eyes – only a fool would dislike such a view.” 

You felt yourself turning a brighter hue of red again. “Maybe 'God of Flattery' would be a more fitting title, seeing as your tricks rarely fool me any longer.” 

He grinned. “Oh, but you haven't even seen half of them yet.” 

You sat up and sent him a curious glance. “There is more?”

“Much more. Would you like to see?” 

“Of course!” 

Suddenly you were surrounded by three more Lokis; one sitting at your other side, a second on the floor, deeply engrossed in a book, and a third taking a book of one of the shelves. Hesitantly, you reached out to the one closest to you. He watched you like he was real, a mischievous smirk on the familiar pale face, yet when your fingertips made contact the magic dissolved and the illusion disappeared. The others were still there, watching you, studying you, following your every move as you bent over and touched the second; making it vanish as well. The third was out of your reach, but you got the idea. 

“Most of my illusions disappear when touched,” the real Loki beside you explained, “as magic is most effective when the person does not know it's fake. Touch is the final information someone needs to be convinced of its nonexistence.” 

“Would someone else's illusions work on you?” 

“Depends on the type and the skill of the caster. Other types of magic will be less effective – if effective at all, as my mind is guarded against it.” 

“Constantly?”

“Constantly.” 

You shifted your weight, not sure whether it was a good thing or not. “Does it not cost a lost of energy?” He didn't answer, but the look in his eyes told you enough and you shook your head in disbelief. “And yet you seldom rest. It doesn't make sense - you travel all day, keeping up all these barriers against other users of magic while at the same time putting up with me and all Thor's soldiers. I cannot believe you simply do not need to sleep.” You didn't try to hide your worry. 

He kept quiet for a few heartbeats, visibly hesitating about the words stuck in his chest. You were afraid that any movement could make him refrain from speaking them so you sat as still as possible, making no sound whatsoever, and waited. He met your gaze again, vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke softly, his smile rather weak. 

“Though it is true that I need less sleep than the average man, I must admit I need more than I have been given.” You sent him a questioning look, and some kind of shame crept into his posture. “My past comes back to haunt me at night.” 

Your chest contracted painfully. He suffered from nightmares? How had you not noticed it before, or at least considered the option? But you had considered it, hadn't you – that morning you had awoken him to teleport you out of your sandwiched position; he had seemed troubled. He was watching you, waiting almost fearfully for your reaction.

“Last time, in the library of Mikill, you were truly asleep.” Now you felt even worse for waking him with your childishness. He nodded, visibly confused as to what point you were trying to make, so you continued. “Did you have nightmares then?” 

“No.” He was still not seeing where you were going with this, but determination crept into your eyes as your decision was quickly made. 

“Let's recreate the moment. We're in a similar situation, with the same 'ingredients' as then. Tell me what I need to do for you to get the rest you deserve.” He stayed silent, slightly squinting his eyes in incomprehension, so you continued. “I don't remember what happened after I fell asleep, obviously, but we could start with reading again. Wait – maybe we can even increase our chances-” You stood. “Wait here for a moment.” 

You searched for the large chair you had spotted while searching for useful books, remembering the folded blanket beside it, and found it. Luck was with you today as you found three pillows on your way back as well, and you were able to return to the raven-haired prince with a bright smile on your face. 

“Here.” You lay your found booty on the large couch and scanned it for a moment, before arranging the pillows in what you imagined to be a comfortable composition and unfolding the blanket. “Lay down.” 

He watched you intently, yet you were unable to figure out what emotions swirled in his eyes. You motioned your head in the direction of the pillows again to spur him on as you held up the blanket. Slowly, almost cautiously, he lay himself down and pulled his legs up onto the sofa, keeping your gaze as you stepped forward and draped the blanket over his lean body. 

“Don't worry about anything. I'll stay here and make sure no one wakes you.” 

The corners of your lips pulled up again as you felt that strange kind of domestic serenity glow inside of you. It was like taking care of him as if he were ill, providing support and making sure he was comfortable. Loki's words, however, pulled you out of your imagination. 

“Won't you lie next to me? The scene wouldn't be exactly the same otherwise, and it might not work.” He smirked.

You tensed. You were pretty sure friends didn't invite the other to come lay next to them. Was he... was he interested in you after all? You searched his eyes for answers but almost immediately found the weariness. No, all he wanted to do was sleep; not really caring whether that gave you the wrong idea or not.

“You're right.” His eyes grew wider as he had probably expected you to decline, and now squinted slightly as if searching for any kind of jest in your voice or eyes; but you smiled. “I'll do almost anything to help you sleep, because you need it, Loki, or your body might one day cave in from exhaustion. I don't wish for that to happen.” 

But some sort of caution stayed in his stare as you stepped closer to the couch and lifted the blanket to lie down underneath it. The moment the side of your head touched the pillow, however, you immediately became aware of your mistake: you were staring straight into his blue-green eyes. His breath rolled down your neck and his nose almost touched yours and your heart missed a few beats before rapidly speeding up and- you quickly turned on your other side, your insides twisting violently. The urge to kiss him had hit you like a branch snapping back.

You made sure not a single inch of you touched him before letting your thoughts wander – if Thor came to get you this would be horribly difficult and awkward to explain, not to mention that, if it were Brant instead of Thor, you would be scolded on the spot. How did you always manage to get yourself into these kinds of situations? 

Your leg slipped off the couch as it was barely big enough for the two of you, and you held your breath as you hoped the prince hadn't noticed it. Alas, no such luck. His arm slipped around your waist and you let out a soft yelp as he pulled your back against his chest, your lungs completely forgetting how to breathe when he whispered in your ear. 

“Your fear to lay close to me might cause you to fall off.” 

“I think it is not my fear but the size of the couch that is the problem here, my prince.” Thank the realms for your quick wits, even if you hadn't been able to keep your voice above a whisper. He laughed, tightening his grip a bit, and you could feel your cheeks starting too burn.

“Can you say that while meeting my gaze?” 

You didn't want him to see your face, so you quickly tried to change the subject. “Are you not afraid this might ruin your villainous reputation?” 

“No one can see us.” 

Your stomach twisted.

“What do you mean?” 

“To any onlooker this sofa will seem empty. There is no need to worry about my reputation, nor yours.” 

Another magic trick. Did it mean that he could hide the two of you from the rest of the world whenever he wanted? Did that mean that, even if there was no hope for something public, there could still be something in secrecy? You weren't sure if that was what you wanted. Was it better to have something, than having nothing at all? You didn't want to think about it. 

“What if someone wants to sit down?” 

He chuckled, his breath tingling in your neck, and the butterflies turned vicious inside of you. “Are you not here to keep that from happening?” 

You mentally berated yourself for forgetting about something so obvious, but the feeling of his body pressing against yours, following the curve of your back, his arm keeping you close; it had turned your mind hazy. 

Mischief snuck into his voice once more. “Last time I was able to sleep you were resting your head on my chest; maybe I will need that pressure again?” 

How glad you were he couldn't see your face, couldn't see the colour of your cheeks or the painful hope in your eyes. “Is this not enough?” 

“What happened to 'I will do anything to help you sleep, my prince'?”

Oh great, he hadn't forgotten about the sentence you nearly regretted saying. It was almost an invitation for him to tease you, to use against you – an your heart contracted pleasurably at the thought of all the ways in which he could do that, in which you would allow him to do that. You forcefully pushed the thought away.

“ _Almost_ anything.” 

“You still owe me.” 

“Is this truly what you want to use that for?” At least it was rather harmless.

“Not if you voluntarily want to help me fall asleep, as you offered so kindly mere minutes ago.” 

You rolled your eyes, but shifted your position anyway. He moved onto his back, his other arm moving around your shoulders as you rested your head on his chest and lay your hand beside your face. You knew he was looking at you, but you didn't meet his gaze. You didn't dare to. 

He chuckled, but it was soft. “Was that so hard?” 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” 

 

You listened to his heart. How it kept beating at the same pace, a tad quicker than what a calm heart would sound like. Was he afraid that the nightmares would get him despite your efforts? Almost instinctively your fingers started moving, tracing the lines and seams of his leather armour but staying close to your face, drawing nondescript patterns. First his heartbeat sped up a little, then calmed again, and, slowly but steadily, faded over time to the beating of a resting body. You lay as silent as possible apart from the moving of your hand. His breathing was steady, his chest falling and rising ever so slightly. 

No nightmares. Your plan had worked.

A smile crept onto your lips and you closed your eyes, focusing on the arm around your shoulders. Negative thoughts were trying to get in but you managed to keep them at bay, managed to keep them from spoiling the moment you were almost shamelessly enjoying, because he wasn't awake anyway - you could tell the difference now. Yet it was difficult to stay awake yourself. His presence, his touch, his heartbeat. Even though you wanted to be aware of it for a little while longer, a few hours more, knowing it might be the last time you could ever feel so comfortable around him again, still your heart was starting to match his, your breathing slowing down. Just a little bit longer. Let it last just a little bit longer. 

But your consciousness left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	24. XXIV

Slowly, a steady heartbeat pulled you from your dream. 

 

“You are the worst guard to have ever lived.” 

It took a moment for the tenderly whispered words to register. You let out a soft groan as you lifted your hand from his chest to rub the sleep from your eye and pushed yourself into a sitting position with the other one, careful not to glide off the edge of the sofa, before blinking a few times against the light of the rising sun. Wait, sunlight? 

“How long have we been asleep?”

“The entire night.” 

You sighed. Your absence together with the prince for a whole night would certainly rouse suspicion – it would only be a matter of time before one of the soldiers would ask you if he had forced himself on you, and irritation was already beginning to ring in the back of your head; but when you glanced at the man lying next to you, your worries faded a bit again. He looked well-rested, healthier. Your plan had worked. 

A genuine, though still rather sleepy smile gently pulled on the corners of your lips, and fondness bloomed in your heart. “You slept well, then? No nightmares?”

“Not a single one.” His smile morphed into a grin. “I might need you in my bed every night from now on.” 

You had to tense your abdominal muscles or your stomach might have ripped itself free so violently it twisted at the thought, his slightly hoarse voice not helping at all, but you managed to roll your eyes and keep your air casual despite your blush. “Too bad for you my duties as a healer only go so far.” 

“And your duties as a friend?” 

You did care about his health, and enough sleep was crucial, but friends didn't share a bed every night to make sure the other one got enough rest. 

“This is a matter for your lover once you return to the palace of Asgard.” 

You gave him two pats on the chest before standing up and stretching, paying no attention to the deep-lying pain in your heart. Why hadn't you thought about him already having a lover, anyway? It would only be logical. Maybe your parent's mischievous insinuation of you marrying one of the princes had led you to believe that they were yet to be courted, or had yet to court; but not once had you stopped to think about their lives in Asgard - and even though you had noticed how handsome both men were, and had been convinced that almost everyone would share that opinion, you had never linked that to someone having acted on it before. It was improbable, no, impossible, that the raven-haired prince hadn't caught anyone's attention yet. You wondered what she was like.  
Was she smart like him? Beautiful like him? Had she dined with kings and queens? Would she become his wife one day? 

“I do not have a lover.” 

Your heart missed a beat, but you kept your appearance just as casual as before as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye and popped your back. Was he joking? It didn't seem like it – yet you didn't allow yourself to be relieved. Lover or no lover, you would never make a chance. 

“Does that surprise you?”

A lot. “A little.” 

He grinned. “Are you offering yourself as volunteer?” 

“Don't flatter yourself with such an assumption; not every woman will fall for you.” You rose your chin, shot him a glare, and grabbed your bag off the armrest to hang it over your shoulder. When you met his gaze again, however, you noticed his surprise. 

“How many women do you think have fallen for me?” 

You frowned. “How am I possibly supposed to know? A lot, I presume.” 

“None.” 

You blinked, and his smirk quickly returned in twofold as his gaze darkened.

“But I'm curious as to why you think so many have proclaimed their feelings for me. Please, enlighten me.” 

This was dangerous; very, very dangerous. One wrong word, one stutter, one slight wavering in your voice and you were done for – but you kept it steady, your tone matter-of-fact., and chose your words carefully. “Well, seeing as you are a kind and intelligent man - not to mention one of regal blood – it only seemed obvious to me that women would be interested.” 

It seemed like you were safe as the mischief slowly drained and his glance grew softer, sadder. It didn't make you happy, but you had done what was needed. 

“No one sees me like that.” 

“The only reason I can think of is that it's because you keep insisting your current reputation must stay intact.” You met his gaze without hesitation. “Drop the villainous act, prove your kindness, provide the poor with sustenance and housing or something, I don't know – just stop believing those tales yourself. Have confidence. I have seen you as you are and I mean no offense, but you are just as soft as you have claimed me to be. If you believe yourself to be worthy of affection, surely the women will start to drop to their knees and proclaim their feelings to you.” 

You extended your hand and smiled at him, but he studied your face for a few seconds longer before taking it and allowing you to pull him up. When he said nothing, maybe lost in thought or contemplating your short speech, you gently proposed teleporting back to the inn – or walking, if he preferred. He complied by laying a hand on the small of your back, and the scenery around you changed. 

 

Only one day to go before your dress would be done, before the party would continue its way to the palace of Yllgard. Even though your heart wanted to go to the library once again to continue your research, your brain begged you not to: the amount of information being forced into your head was reaching a limit. Visiting a local healer would therefore not be a good option either, and honestly you didn't want to go out to the marketplace again in fear of seeing that man, yet you didn't want to do nothing while an entire city was waiting to be explored – how could you possibly sit still and allow boredom to take over? 

Just when frustration wanted to surface did you spot Brant coming your way. He didn't seem angry or worried, so the fear of being scolded quickly receded, but there was something else in his eyes – something akin to hope. You frowned slightly. 

He sat down opposite of you at the empty table in the back of the tavern, hesitated for a moment, and then forced the words out of his lungs. 

“Do you remember that thing you said by the creek? About my sister?” 

You nodded, your frown fading in understanding. “Does she live in Mestr?” 

“Just outside of the city walls.” 

“Then let's not waste any more time.” 

When you stood and saw how the hope in his eyes had doubled in intensity, your heart grew heavy in your chest. You had done research on all kinds of things of which you suspected might help but even now you didn't know whether you would be able to help her, and it was very likely that the damage was irreparable. Your expression grew softer, less determined. You were his last hope and not just of any kind: he must have given up on her recovery before you had come out of nowhere, promising things that might not even be within your ability to do. You needed to tame his hope before your incompetence would shatter his heart to pieces.

“Brant, please know that it might not work-”

“I know, I know; I just haven't had any kind of hope for her in a long time. It's unexpected, to say the least. I can't really control it.” 

So much for your plan to spare him. 

“I will do everything I can.” 

“I know.”

And so the two of you traded the tavern for the stables behind it, swiftly readying his horse before mounting it and making your way through the city. As the intense stare of the stranger was still burned into your retina you were glad that Brant's back formed some kind of protective barrier behind you, allowing you to focus on the road in front of you without having to worry about being stabbed between the shoulder blades, yet you let your magic search around as well just to be sure, to sate your anxiety. Luckily neither your eyes nor your magic found the man you feared to encounter again, and when you passed through the gates you already felt more at ease. 

Outside of the city walls the neighbourhoods were quite different: smaller, less luxurious houses of plainer design with little, often unkept gardens in front of them, and the two of you stopped in front of one that fit the same description. It still felt like it was part of Mestr, though, with the same kind of foreign feeling to it, and when you got off the stallion a question came to mind. 

“Hey Brant?” 

He followed you down. “Hm?” 

“If you live in Yllgard, only a city away from the palace, then why did you become a soldier for a prince of Asgard?”

He hung the saddle over a peg. “Because the prince of Yllgard is a dick.” A sigh escaped his lips. “I don't like this royal family. The youngest daughter is all right, but the older one is selfish and haughty and the prince is no better; he's most likely even worse. I used to fight for them, until prince Thor came to visit one day and I realised my efforts would be more appreciated – and better paid – if I went with him instead. So that's what I did.” 

You nodded and shifted your gaze to the house in front of you. “But don't you miss your parents? Your sister?” 

“Only my sister,” he responded as he secured the horse to a second pole. “My parents are arseholes too, so don't expect too much of a warm welcome when we go inside. My father refuses to work and drinks away most his time, so a large part of the coin I earn I send home so that they can at least keep paying the rent; and my mother has never shown either of us any kindness. It helped me decide to move to Asgard, at least.” He followed your gaze, but there was only sadness and contempt. “We're only here for my sister. I will keep my parents distracted if they're home.” 

You silently nodded again, and followed him through the overgrown garden and through the door. 

It was dark. All windows were covered by thick curtains that allowed no light into the house except for the thin lines where they failed to touch, creating beams like sharp borders cutting through the floorboards and walls. Dust swirled in them, slowly, like time itself had forgotten its pace. No one seemed to be home.

Brant guided you up the stairs, knocked two times, curtly, on a door, and entered. 

“Dagny, I'm home.” 

A body stirred lightly under the sheets.

Brant moved to the bedside. “I've brought someone who wants to try and help you. To cure you.” 

The woman moved again, rolling over to face her brother, and spoke softly. 

“A healer?” 

“She possesses the gift of magic. It's worth a try, right?” 

It was silent for a moment, until she slowly pushed herself up and glanced over to you. You sent her a gentle smile, bowing your head in a formal greeting. “I will do everything I can.” 

The woman moved her gaze back to the swordsman at her side, and for a moment you feared she was going to decline – but then she nodded. 

“She may try.” But there was bitterness to her voice. 

You felt the pressure rise, your shoulders growing painfully tense and your heart speeding up. If it didn't work, wouldn't it only amplify her sorrow? Wouldn't she be worse off than before your visit? Yet there was no turning back. 

“Brant, could you please leave the room? Stay outside, so that I can call you when I need your help.” He did as you asked, and as soon as the door closed behind him you moved over to sit beside Dagny. “Could you please bare your stomach?” 

She nodded, pushing the sheets to the side and lifting her nightgown to her chest. Now that you were closer to her you could see how much of her features were similar to those of her brother: the same goldenbrown eyes, the same dark, curly hair, and the same shape of nose – yet she was not as fair. Her cheeks were hollow from malnutrition, her skin had lost its glow a long time ago, and the empty look in her glazed-over eyes showed that it had been a while since she had last allowed herself to smile. Your heart contracted in sympathy. 

“I am going to put my hands on your skin; you might experience a bit of a tingle. If anything feels unpleasant, please don't hesitate to tell me.” 

You softly lay your palms on her belly, beside the scar, and let your magic seep into her body. You had a hunch as to what you should be looking for, and in less than a minute time you were proven right: scar tissue had formed on the inside of her womb, preventing the placenta of the miscarried babies to implant or to grow to a size big enough to sustain the forming life. One quick check told you that the rest of the organ was unaffected and healthy, so the only thing you needed to do for her to be able to carry a baby again was to remove the tissue. 

You inspected the clumps of cells with your eyes closed and your hands still pressed against her abdomen. The body recognised it as something of its own, and that could work to your advantage: if you could convince the body to kill off the extra tissue and a bit of the lining of the womb, you could heal it properly, and there should be no complications -yet you were almost certain it would hurt like hell.

“I know the problem, and I think I have figured out a way to fix it.” You tried not to let hope colour your words. “I will try to suppress the pain, but it might still hurt. Do you have something hard to bite down onto?” 

She opened a drawer of her nightstand, took out a thin novelette, and held it up. “Will this do?” 

“Perfect. Put it in your mouth and make sure your teeth won't be able to connect.” You waited until she had done so. “All right. Hum or yell if you need me to stop, but please refrain from grabbing onto my arm.” She nodded, and you sent her a determined look. “Here we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	25. XXV

You let your magic flow through her, taking a bit of her energy an focusing it on the scar tissue inside her womb. You asked – no, forced the body to eradicate the cells, programming their death much like apoptosis, and subdued the pain almost completely. This part alone took at least an hour, and you could hear the man outside the door grow restless at the hearing of his sisters pained groans. 

But when the first part of the process came to an end the scar was now open wound again, and you had to act fast to heal it – yet her tired, malnourished body couldn't provide you with energy any longer. You put everything you had left into the healing, forced it into her flesh and into the lining of her womb; feeling through your magic how it grew back, renewed, healthy. It was working. 

You were healing infertility. 

You used the adrenaline boost to finish up and, after there were no traces left of the whole procedure, checked a last time to make sure everything was how it was supposed to be. And it was. With a weary sigh but a grand smile you took your hands from her stomach. 

“You are able to have children again.” 

She stared at you, eyes growing wide, and took the book from between her teeth – yet it still took a while for your words to settle. 

“Are... are you sure?”

You nodded, letting out a little laugh as you barely believed it yourself. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and soon started running down her face but she smiled, and she smiled oh so bright; like an ever-cloudy day suddenly clearing to let through the light of the sun, cold turning warm and hard turning soft, and it was as if the news alone had given her back her healthy glow.  
Without a warning she sat up and flung her arms around you, holding you so tight it was hard to breathe, but you hugged her back and paid no attention to your protesting lungs. She had needed this, to let her tears run freely and to hug someone again. You had no right nor intention to deny her that. 

After a few minutes of stroking her back as she cried waterfalls against your shoulder you gently pushed her back, and smiled. 

“It would be selfish of me to claim all of your embraces, and I think your brother might be a much better hugger anyway.” 

She choked out a watery giggle as she fixed her nightgown and nodded, giving you wordless permission to call the soldier inside. 

He stormed through the door with a loud 'is everything all right?!' but froze when he saw the beaming smiles on both your faces, and, slowly, oh so slowly, an incredibly wide and disbelieving one appeared on his. 

“It worked.” 

You stepped away from the bed, allowing the soldier to embrace his sister, and for a moment you stood silently as they cried.

 

The two of you gave her the privacy to change, moving downstairs and opening up the curtains to let in more light. Dagny joined you not much later but left soon again to make some tea, and you could see the pride and fondness in Brant's gaze as it followed her until she was out of sight. Then he turned to you, endless gratitude swirling in the dark-golden brown, but you spoke before he could. 

“Don't worry about paying me.” 

“I could never-”

“And that's okay. Really.” Your smile hadn't left your lips. “I don't need payment of any sort.” 

“If there is ever something you need, ask me. I will even consider betraying the king and queen of Asgard for what you have done for her – for us.” 

You laughed it off. “Please don't, that wouldn't only get the two of you in trouble but me as well.” 

Tea was served and the conversation changed. Dagny explained how their mother was still at work and how their father had gone to the tavern to meet with friends, leaving the house to her alone until the two of you came around. With a weary look in her eyes she admitted not having left the bed herself all day, and you nodded silently in understanding; trauma and depression were two of the worst injuries a person could suffer from. But, now that her biggest wish in life was no longer out of her reach, she had a goal once again – and goals gave people a reason to get up every morning. She would be all right. 

And she already showed more life: impressed by your abilities she wanted to know everything about other cases, asking a million questions, and you answered every single one of them with joy. Never had someone shown such interest in your profession, and it warmed your heart to see how her eyes no longer stood empty; they were bright, almost sparkling, and it nearly brought the swordsman to tears again. This was what you lived for, this was your purpose. 

 

After two hours of conversation you could feel how your body started to beg for sleep, and Dagny wasn't much better off. The procedure had taken a toll on both of you. 

“It might be better to let you rest. Take enough sustenance and try to go outside more often, it will do you good.” You smiled and stood, curtly bowing your head in goodbye, but within seconds she had wrapped her thin arms around you again. 

“I'll forever be grateful for what you've done.” 

“Take good care of yourself, all right?” 

“I will.” 

She let go, and by stepping back you allowed Brant to take over the embrace.

“Think about coming to Asgard with us. Leave this behind, start a new life.” 

She hesitated. “What about mum and dad?”

“They'll get over it.” 

“How much time do I have to decide?” 

“We will leave at dawn tomorrow.” 

“I'll think about it.” 

“We will come pick you up.” 

She sighed, but a smile played on her lips. After a last exchanging of goodbyes you and Brant left to return to the inn. The swordsman almost radiated his pure joy and relief and you couldn't help but beam yourself. You had done it. You had truly done it.

Yet during the ride back the adrenaline started to fade and your bones grew heavy, your thoughts slowing down, and your eyes losing their focus. In a state between awake and asleep you arrived at the tavern, barely registering how you got off and stepped inside. Brant didn't even give the soldiers drinking at the table a chance to greet the two of you before announcing what you had managed to do. Their eyes grew wide, including Thor's, and without a warning their praise hit you like a tidal wave. They stood to slap both of you on your shoulders and before you noticed a tankard of ale got pushed into your hands. 

“To the best healer in existence!” 

They rose their mugs and downed their amber coloured drinks, cheering and laughing like they were celebrating the coronation of a king and not the recovery of an acquaintance. Could you excuse yourself during a time like this, or would it take down the festive atmosphere? Would it ruin their joy? Yet you could feel how it wouldn't be much longer or your legs would start to wobble. 

Then a cool, comforting hand settled on your shoulder, and within a fraction of a second the smiles of the soldiers grew wary and uncertain. 

“I think our dear healer cannot join in your celebrating before having regained her energy.” 

The familiar, silvery voice was soothing to your ears amongst the buzz of the tavern. Relief washed away some of the weariness and you were able to wish the men good night with a smile before allowing Loki to lead you to the stairs, where you took his hand and let him help you up the steps. You moved without truly being in control, following without thinking, but you felt safe. You felt cared for, protected; and as he shut the door behind him you let gravity pull you down onto the bed without a speck of elegance. But you weren't free to rest just yet.

“Where have you been?” There was an unpolished edge to his silver, now. 

“Hm?”

“You were gone. I couldn't feel your magic.” 

“Brant's sister. Didn't you hear?” You were too tired to properly think, let alone to tell him about your achievement. He would hear about it tomorrow, if Thor didn't tell him sooner. 

He sighed, his whole posture radiating his irritation. “I forbid you to leave without telling anyone about it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I was wondering if I had to go looking for your dead body,” he snapped back, staring coldly. “You can't simply go wandering about with that man out there-” 

“Brant was with me.” 

“That half-wit is not even able to protect himself!” 

You groaned and closed your eyes as you turned your back to him and pulled the sheets over your shoulders. “Next time I'll let you know. If you're around, that is.” 

“Is that an accusation?” His voice took on a dangerous tone. 

“Well, usually you need the other person to be there before you can tell them where you're going.” You had no restrains in your answers, no fear, both because sleep troubled your clear thinking and because at this point you cared not if the prince decided to chuck you out of the window. “So I can't really be blamed.” 

His sigh was once again filled with frustration. “Do you have no fear of death whatsoever?” 

“I am not in need of a guard.” 

“No, you are in need of a nanny.” 

You turned and sat up to face him. “If you apparently care so much for my whereabouts then give me a normal way to call for you. You have already forbidden to use my magic like that and I don't think you would like it if I screamed your name through the city streets – how should I speak to you when I have no ways of finding you in the first place?” 

“Not going out at all would solve all problems,” he retorted coldly, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I will go out whenever I feel like it; I am not your property to keep stowed away until I am of any use-” 

“I simply wish for you to stay alive!”

“I don't need your help with that!” 

He turned his back to you and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the frustration in his clenched fists. Why did he worry so much, anyway? You let out an exhausted sigh, unable to keep holding on to the annoyance you felt with him.

“I appreciate your concerns, my prince; but even though you don't trust Thor's men, I do – not to mention that I am perfectly capable to defend myself as long as my opponent is not as powerful as you, and I figure that it is highly unlikely. I will gladly spend most of my time with you but this was a delicate matter, and Brant wouldn't have wanted you to be present. Now could you please just accept my words and allow me to sleep?” 

He stood silently for a moment, his fists loosening and his shoulders falling, before he turned to meet your gaze; yet there was no anger left in his. Instead, it seemed like worry was what had moved his words, and that fear had him raising his voice. Was he truly that afraid of losing you?  
Warmth spread through your heart and your expression softened. You knew how anxious you would be if a friend suddenly disappeared, knew how frustrated you would get if they hadn't even taken your worries into consideration – and that was exactly the mistake you had made: you hadn't expected Loki to be worried. You hadn't thought about him at all when you left. How long did he have had to endure the fear that you, his only friend, had been brutally murdered?

“I'm sorry.” Your voice was soft, your tone apologetic, but it were your gold-speckled eyes that truly conveyed your realisation as you met his. “It was unkind of me to leave like that.” 

He squinted slightly, most likely trying to figure out if you were being sarcastic or not, but when he noticed how your gaze stayed remorseful his own expression softened as well. He turned his attention away from you and to the window to hide the vulnerability in his eyes, yet you caught a glimpse of it nonetheless. 

“I hope my nightmares will not morph into visions of you laying lifeless in the streets of Mestr.” He smoothed a hand over his face and up into his hair, before leaning his elbow above the windowsill and absently staring at the street below. “I was just about to send all of Thor's men to search for you when I heard them cheer your name.” 

Your heart contracted. What if you truly had died? Would he have blamed himself for not being able to protect you, and therefore have found himself responsible for your death? You knew you would have, if the roles had been reversed. 

You hesitated, but forced the words out anyway. “We could join the beds together?” He pushed himself upright again and met your gaze with a frown, so you continued with an explanation. “I will feel responsible if my actions cause you nightmares tonight.” 

Still he kept silent for a while, simply staring at you, and you were unable to read his eyes. When he spoke, however, you easily picked up on the confusion and slight disbelief.

“Do you not fear my brother's reaction when he finds us like that?” 

A gentle blush wanted to colour your cheeks but you pushed it down and kept your gaze serious. “Surely you can do that magic illusion stuff again?” 

He studied you quietly for a moment, and you tried not to think of how the last light of the day made his skin look like pale gold. Then, he stepped forward. “As you wish. I will take your kind offer.” 

You languidly moved out from underneath the covers, stood, sank through your knees, and started leaning against the wooden edge of the bed. It didn't move. You tried pushing with more force though you barely had it, and even though it slightly shifted, your efforts didn't have much greater of an effect. You struggled for another few moments before you turned around and glanced up at the handsome man clad in simple yet luxurious shirt and trousers, of fine make and coloured a beautiful green. 

“Some help would be appreciated, my prince.” 

A grin slipped onto his lips, yet he sank through his knees as well and helped you push – and within seconds the two bedsides clanked together. Without saying another word you crawled back underneath the sheets, followed by Loki, and kept your distance – but, as you had feared from the moment you had proposed it, he wouldn't have it. 

“Come closer.” He extended an arm in invitation and your insides already started to tingle. 

“Is it truly necessa-” 

“It is.” 

You let out a throaty groan in irritation but turned on your other side and wiggled yourself into his arms nonetheless, facing away from him to hide your blush and tensing up completely when he pressed his chest and abdomen against the curve of your back. He lay his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer, his hand on your stomach, and you begged the gods he didn't feel how it twisted, how the butterflies inside it turned vicious, or how every inch of you skin seemed to heat up under his cool touch. His smell enveloped you and you felt like it drugged you. 

“Why so tense, my lady? It was you who proposed this idea, after all,” he teased lowly, his breath tingling against the back of your head.

This was definitely flirting, right? No, you were not going down this road of thought again – flirting or no, it didn't matter. Keep yourself from hoping. Keep the pain at bay. 

“I suggested to join the beds, not for you to cling to me like I'm your personal heater.” 

“Does my temperature bother you?” He sounded almost hurt, and you weren't sure whether it was a trick or not.

You decided to keep it safe, and softened your voice. “It doesn't. Even if you decided to turn full Frost Giant I would still allow it, though reluctantly.” 

A few moments passed.

“Would you not scream your lungs out when you awaken with such a monster being the first thing you glance upon in the morning?” 

You rolled your eyes and twisted back to your other side so you could meet his, your gaze stubborn and slightly irritated, but mostly worried. 

“Why do you still think of yourself as such? Why do you still accuse me of thinking of you as a monster? As a matter of fact I would not scream my lungs out, nor would I back off or anything the like. Sure, I might get a minor heart attack, but only because I am simply not used to waking up beside a man, Frost Giant or not.” 

You could see how your words meant more to him than you had expected them to, but he quickly hid the delicate emotions behind swirling mischief and a grin on his lips. 

“Would you like to get used to it?” 

“Behave,” you growled back, and your fist softly made contact with his chest as you shot him a glare.

“That was not a 'no'.” His arm sneaked around your waist again and pulled your stomach against his, and it felt like your insides were about to explode on the contact and on the close proximity of his face to yours. 

“It wasn't a 'yes' either,” you quickly retorted, and put your hands on his chest so you could push some distance between the two of you. 

If he had stared into your eyes for even a second longer you would have kissed him. You still wanted to, though, so very, very badly, so you turned your back towards him again and sighed without making a sound. Fantasies of his lips on yours and his hands on your bare skin shot through your mind no matter how desperately you tried to push them away. 

“Just go to bed before I regret ever proposing this.” 

“So you don't regret it already-” 

“Shut up and _sleep_.” 

He chuckled but stayed quiet, gently pressing himself against your back again as he hugged you from behind, and you allowed him. After a few moments you even allowed yourself to melt into his embrace. You granted yourself this last thing. 

Because tomorrow, when you arrived at the palace, you would tell him how you felt; 

and you would leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	26. XXVI

When morning came you had no difficulty waking up – just difficulty to get yourself out of bed. The cool-skinned prince still had his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back and his face nuzzled in your hair. Today was the day you were going to leave it all behind, if you followed through with your plan; but you already knew you weren't going to be able to say it or to simply walk away. Of course there was still the option to give it some more time, to stay a bit longer - but the pain of seeing him, of being close to him, it would only grow deeper with every second you spend near him. His mere presence would continuously remind you of what could never be. 

Just like now you could imagine him holding onto you out of familiarity, out of affection. You could imagine him pressing his lips against your bare shoulder before mumbling a good morning but it would never be more than exactly that: a fantasy, a figment of your imagination; and it hurt. Why had Yggdrasil allowed your feelings to grow so strong? Was the universe truly that merciless? Sure, it was a sweet kind of torture, but torture nonetheless. Infatuation, a near obsession; you were driving yourself insane both by feeling it and thinking about it. But how could you blame yourself? Wasn't a first love always the most intense one? According to all the people in Blacktree it was; but then again, they didn't meet many outsiders to give them any kind of perspective. 

But maybe... maybe you should be grateful. 

You hadn't thought to ever experience something like this, something as piercing and filling and overwhelming, blocking out so many other things you could be feeling. It was addicting to feel your heart swell with fondness or to feel the butterflies inside your stomach. And maybe you would find it again, someday, with someone else. Maybe less intense, maybe less thorough, but the same. Maybe you would look back on your time with Loki like one would look back at the happy memories of one's youth: nostalgic, a bit melancholic, but content to have experienced it. Maybe you would be all right in the end. 

You quietly released the air from your lungs, letting the empty kind of sadness take its place as it filled you, carefully moved out of his embrace, and maneuvered off the bed without making a single floorboard creak or groan. One glance told you that Loki was still fast asleep. He looked so peaceful, so handsome, with his hair a bit tousled and his lips slightly parted. You moved your gaze elsewhere, hoping your chest would stop contracting, hoping the tears would stay back. 

Would he hate you?

You quickly moved away from the bed to stop yourself from thinking, glancing at the one at the other side of the room. Thor hadn't awakened either. Would he have noticed how his brother had tenderly held you throughout the night? How the two of you had slept in the same bed, like lovers?  
Now that you stood at a distance you could see the illusion yourself, and Loki had kept his word: it was strange to see yourself lying in a bed you knew wasn't truly there, your brain tingling in confusion for a moment. Maybe this was how patients felt when they claimed to have stepped out of their body, their soul looking down on it from above. It was a beautiful magic trick. Separate beds, separate people. The illusion of you looked content with the distance between them, sleeping serenely with the covers up to her neck, and you smiled bleakly. If only you could be like her. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and moved over to the door, where you stepped into your shoes and took your bag from the hook on the wall to hang it over your shoulder. You could just run away now, without telling him anything, and now that you could hide your magic from him you could prevent him from finding you as you returned home. You could leave a letter saying him you couldn't bear it any longer, or would that be too melodramatic? 

Your hand lay on the doorknob. Neither of you would have had the chance to say goodbye. An other option was to just get breakfast, return, and continue like you hadn't even thought about this. There was still your dress, after all, and you couldn't let their coin go to waste by not even wearing it once, right? Not to mention that you wanted to know if Dagny would join you. And what about the library in Yllgard? Maybe you could stay even longer, to make full use of it, before you told the prince and ran away. 

You huffed out a soft, mirthless laugh. How desperately you wanted to stay, making up all these silly excuses. 

You were about to turn the knob and open the door when a sickly feeling surged through you, akin to dread, or maybe something like a premonition; and you froze.  
There was someone standing on the other side. 

A faint yet familiar smell reached your nose. Why was it familiar? You didn't truly recognise it, nor could you link it to a person or an object, and how did you even come to the conclusion that there was someone in the hallway without being able to look through walls? Had it been a sound that had unconsciously alerted you? You pricked up your ears and held your breath. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat. Suddenly a pang of fear shot through you as you remembered the stare of the man amongst the crowd, the man at the marketplace, and you knew it was him on the other side of the door – you knew he was looking straight at you. 

You set a step back, and another, slowly sinking through your knees as your hand found the dagger concealed in your boot and rising again, and never did you take your eyes of the door. You gripped the handle so tightly your knuckles turned white. 

But nothing happened. 

The door stayed closed, the room stayed silent. Was he still there? Had he ever been there in the first place? Were you growing paranoid? Were you going insane? Your eyes frantically searched the wooden beams for any signs, any hints, your ears desperately trying to pick up the smallest sound, but you got nothing but the rapid beating of your own heart and the buzzing noise of the blood and adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

Loki shot up in bed with a gasp and you could only just keep yourself from screaming by slapping a hand over your mouth. You let out a deep, yet shaking breath through your fingers, casting one last glance at the door before meeting the prince's gaze. Only then did you see the fear in his eyes. 

“I thought you were gone-” his voice broke and he swallowed hard, his wide eyes not leaving yours for a second, and you quickly rushed over to him after swiftly putting your dagger back. 

“Hey-” You sat down on the bed and cupped his cheeks as if by instinct, looking straight into his eyes as you made a shushing sound – like you were consoling a child who had awoken from a nightmare. “Hey, it's all right, I'm here, I'm here-” You moved a hand over his jaw and through his dark hair.

He wasn't really himself, you could see it. It was his past surging back to him, his fears, his insecurities, his bad memories, as his brain hadn't fully awakened yet and the nightmare still lingered. Slowly he came to his senses, the terror draining from his blue-green eyes, and he closed them for a moment to let out a last shaky breath. It was heartbreaking to see how his traumas still haunted him. You gingerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, not caring how uncomfortable it was for you from this position, and he quickly did the same; holding you almost painfully tight against his chest and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You managed to subdue the butterflies by listening to his heart beating fast but growing steadier, and by feeling how his shallow breathing deepened. You slowly brushed his hair.  
This was exactly the kinds of scenarios you had been silently fearing. How much of his trauma would he re-live if you left him? Would it reopen old wounds? You remembered the things he had said in the first few days, when you had only started to get to know him: 

_Trust will only get you hurt._

He trusted you. And he trusted you to stay. Could you do what you needed to do to survive, if it meant he would have to go through hell again? You wanted to scream and yell out of frustration because you knew that, for him, for his sanity and his happiness, you would quietly suffer until the end of time. 

 

You slowly let go of him and attempted to sit back, hoping you hadn't strained your back too much. He let go of you and sighed.

“I apologise; I didn't want you to see me like this.”

You chuckled softly. “I have seen you angry, I have seen you cry – by Yggdrasil, I have even seen you turn partially blue. Don't worry about something so silly; I'm merely glad you dare to show your emotions around me.” He huffed out a mirthless laugh, hate in his eyes as he averted his gaze, but you tried to catch it again. “Though I would always prefer hearing your laugh over seeing your tears.”

“Because I'm less of a monster when I laugh-” 

“Because I want to see you happy.” 

His eyes found yours again, and you smiled. 

“It saddens me every time I realise you find yourself so unworthy of happiness, you know. I don't only have to worry about you as your healer but as your friend as well; but I wish I didn't have to. I wish I didn't have to worry so much because you could just allow yourself to be happy.” Your smile turned sadder. “It hurts me to see you like this.”

His eyes switched between yours, unable to decide which one to settle on, or maybe searching – yet he said nothing. You sighed softly, but kept the corners of your lips turned up. 

“Promise me you will allow yourself to be happy?” 

The corners of his mouth twitched up as well. “I've been happier since you forced your friendship on me, at least.” 

“Hey-” you grinned and gingerly hit your fist against his chest, “I didn't force anything onto you. But, forced or not, I'm glad it has had a positive impact.” 

Before you could retract your hand, however, he put his own over it, pressed your palm flat against his chest, and kept it in place; the unidentifiable, delicate emotion swirling in his eyes again. 

“What have I possibly done to deserve you?” 

Your stomach made somersaults and a blush fought its way onto your cheeks as he kept your gaze. “You're good company, I guess.” You managed to pull your hand back to hold it safely in front of your bosom. “On a different note, however-” you cleared your throat, “I think the man I saw at the marketplace is inside the building.” 

His eyes slightly widened. “How do you know?” 

“I wanted to... to get breakfast, but before I opened the door I felt his presence on the other side, if that makes any sense? I don't know, I just got nauseous and it felt like he was there. Maybe... maybe I'm just starting to come down with the flu or something.” A healer with the flu, oh the irony of it all. “It's probably nothing to worry about.” 

He frowned and looked at you as if you were mad. “The man who sent you into a panic attack simply by meeting your eyes stood outside of the room you sleep in, and you say it is nothing to worry about?” 

“Well, he might not have been there at all, it could have been my imagination-” 

“But what if it wasn't?” He shook his head, more to himself than to you. “Stay close to me. Make sure to never leave my sight until we reach the palace.” He interrupted you before you could even fully open your mouth to speak. “I know you think quite high of your ability to defend yourself, but I am not taking any chances. As your prince I command you to stay at my side at all times.”

Your heart tingled pleasantly but you pushed it away and nodded. “What about breakfast?” 

“We will wait until my brother wakes up, and then go downstairs together. We won't return to this room. Make yourself ready to leave.” 

And so the two of you pushed the beds apart again while the golden-haired man kept sleeping like a bear in hibernation and gathered the few things scattered around the room.  
You watched with wide eyes how, in a theatrical snap of his fingers and a sheen of magic washing over his body, his casual outfit was replaced by his armor. Finally it made sense how he could wear a different shirt and a different pair of pants almost every night and yet have barely any luggage. Well, you should have known since he had told you about the teleportation, but somehow your mind just hadn't made that connection. 

“I can give you a different outfit as well, if you'd like?” He grinned mischievously. “Or maybe I should take it all off?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Pervert.” 

Could he really do that? Could he undress you without laying a single finger on you, at any time of the day? On one hand it terrified you, but on the other hand the thought alone made your stomach twist. 

Loki, either impatience or hunger getting the best of him, awoke his brother, told him about what you had felt, and in no less than five minutes the three of you went downstairs to have breakfast. Your ears were focused on your surroundings, your eyes swiftly scanning every hall you passed on your way to the stairs that led down to the tavern. Your arm occasionally bumped against Loki's as you walked side by side but you didn't mind; in a way it was even comforting. But the fear was constantly there. 

Even though nothing happened, not when the three of you sat down with the soldiers to eat and not while breakfast was had, you still felt the stranger's lingering presence. He wasn't in this room or you would have noticed, if he had truly been outside the door this morning; but your instinct or awareness didn't go as far as the adjoining rooms or the rest of the building, and you didn't dare to search for him with your magic. But maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you when you felt his presence outside as well, or at least that he had been there not too long ago. 

Thor took over Loki's spot beside you when it was his turn to saddle his steed – he couldn't exactly command one of the soldiers to do it as they were simply too terrified of the creature – yet it seemed that, somehow, he managed to do it in half the time it usually cost him; and so you weren't left under Thor's protection for long before you could mount Egil's back. Before you knew it Loki had tightly wrapped his arm around your midsection and pulled you flush against him. He was taking is own command very seriously, about you staying close and all, and an awkward blush formed on your cheeks; yet you couldn't say you didn't like it. Of course, it was better not to say anything whatsoever about it at all. 

Thor mounted his steed and announced the plan to the others with his characteristically loud voice. “First we will get the dress, then we will make a detour to Brant's house and continue on our way to the palace. Keep your eyes keen. If you notice anything that doesn't feel right or see anyone silently following us, give the sign. If all goes well we should arrive at midday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH you thought the big reveal was gonna come this chapter? That they could finally be happy? HAHAHAH! No. >:D
> 
> But who is that guy? Is he even there, or is he a figment of your imagination? 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	27. XXVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit the fours! More than 400 kudos and comments and over 4000 views, holy shit  
> I can't express how grateful I am and how much I love every single one of you, because words don't run deep enough, but I love you - all of you. All your comments make me so incredibly happy and I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am (●´ω｀●) I'm ~~not~~ sorry for the torture :']

The grey skies promised rain, but it stayed dry up until the moment the party arrived at the tailor shop. You quickly slid off Egil's back, closely followed by the raven-haired prince, and shielded your face from the first droplets until you could step inside. Tove looked up at the sound of the bell. 

“Ah, you're back!” Her eyes then found the tall man behind you and grew wary; her voice taking on a carefully manufactured tone of politeness. “I will get the dress immediately, miss.” 

And she was gone in the blink of an eye. 

That was exactly how everyone acted around Loki, wasn't it? Fearful, cautious, like he was a snake; coiled up and ready to strike at any given moment. You could feel him shift his weight behind you. It probably still hurt him, if only a little bit. 

_No one sees me like that._

No one but you saw him as someone they could love, only as someone they could hate – if they didn't already do so – and he knew that, he saw their faces every single day in every single place he visited, and you assumed that included the palace he lived in. He was constantly surrounded by prejudice and resentment.  
Instances like this only made it harder to leave. Maybe, if you could honestly confess your fondness for him and ask of him to forget about it, you could grow over it and stay by his side as his friend? Maybe he would appreciate the thought? Or was it only wishful thinking? 

Tove returned and handed you a bag made of finer cloth than your own attire - it was almost embarrassing. 

She curtsied and smiled. “I hope you like it, miss.” 

“I am certain I will. Thank you so much, Tove. I hope you didn't overexert yourself for my sake.” 

“It's nothing, miss.”

You smiled warmly. “I'll come and visit again on my way back home. I haven't forgotten about your suggestion yet.” 

Your attempt to lighten the air and to get rid of the formality hadn't really worked, but at your last sentence her eyes brightened a bit, and her smile grew more genuine. 

“I'm glad.” 

With a last goodbye you left while holding the bag close to your chest, your arms crossed over it as if to protect it and your back bent over slightly to keep it from getting soaked. With a little more effort than usual you managed to climb onto the black stallion again, and as soon as Loki had taken his spot behind you once more the party continued on its way. 

 

Next stop was Brant's house. The swordsman stepped inside, but returned not much later. 

“She will join us on our way back.” 

The other men nodded, and quietly turned their horses around. As the group rode out of the surrounding village and onto the wide road leading to Yllgard, you successfully caught Brant's gaze and gestured him to move his horse closer to you and Loki. 

“Does she not want to see the palace?” 

You had feared going there as well, and you still did as meeting a king and a queen was still a terrifying thought, but you were curious as well as to what it looked like - and as Dagny didn't have to meet the royal family, what other reason could she have to stay home? Didn't she wonder what the inside of the building looked like where the most powerful men and women of the kingdom resided? What the gardens were like? If the members of the royal family had their own personal libraries, or if there was an entire wing dedicated to healing or medicine? Because you sure hoped that was what you would find. 

“Quite so. She has heard the tales about the palace, both from me and others, and she knows I couldn't constantly be at her side to protect her if she came with us. It is a logical decision, and I can wait a little while longer if I must - as long as she is happy in the end. We will pick her up on our way back and she will come live with me in Asgard.” He smiled bright and content, and you couldn't help but copy his expression. 

“I'm glad she has chosen for a new life.” 

“All thanks to you, my lady.” 

Loki's arm tightened around your waist. “You haven't told me yet what exactly it was that you have done.” 

You could see how Brant met his gaze and how they exchanged a glare you could barely read - apart from the obvious dislike for each other - yet you simply ignored it and spoke with enthusiasm. 

“I cured her infertility! She'll be able to have children again; can you believe it? I never thought I would be able to achieve something like that – has anyone done it before? Probably, but I'm still rather proud of myself.” You laughed incredulously. “It took a while, and it cost a lot of energy, but it was worth every second. I gave her back her biggest wish- It's so- I can't even describe the feeling.” 

He chuckled softly, almost tenderly if that was possible, and you didn't know if it was your mind playing tricks on you or if there truly was pride in his voice. “You are destined for great things once you have trained the many aspects of your magic to its full potential.” 

It was your turn to snicker. “If my teacher doesn't slack, that is.” 

“Hm? What was that?” His arm tightened around your waist but you could hear the grin in his voice. “Surely you must know by now that it is not very wise to insult a prince-” 

“Not wise, maybe; but certainly fun.” You grinned like an idiot, fondness swirling in your eyes, until you saw Brant glancing at the two of you from the corner of your eyes and you turned your head to meet his gaze. 

He squinted slightly in disbelief, confusion, or maybe even suspicion, but when he noticed you were looking back at him he seemed to awake from his thoughts and a warning immediately crept into his eyes. You were getting too close to him, too attached. Your smile faded and your shoulders fell a little, but you sent him a nod that was barely noticeable, and turned your gaze forward again as he returned to his position farther away. 

Loki bent forward a bit, his voice hushed. “One moment you are all warmth and happiness and a mere second later it is like all of that has drained, a glance from that half-wit the only thing needed. What has he done to you that makes you cower at only a moment of eye-contact?” 

“It's nothing; he's merely protecting me.” 

“From what? From me?”

“From myself.” 

Loki sat back a bit, yet you could almost feel his confusion buzzing in the empty space between you. 

“Sometimes you speak in riddles, my lady.” 

You smiled bleakly but said nothing more, and the silence lasted. 

 

The hours slowly crawled by and you grew more nervous with every passing second, an uncomfortable knot settling in your stomach. Not even the gates of Yllgard, however grand and beautiful, could pull you from your anxious thoughts. Loki had said that the king and queen would most definitely want to meet the healer that has kept the princes alive – but did that mean they were going to speak to you? Would they expect you to respond using their titles? What if your answer was weird, or what if they laughed at you when you said something wrong? When the palace came in sight, rising high above the massive city, you feared the content of your stomach was going to come out. 

“You will be fine.” 

You tried to glance over your shoulder, yet you were unable to meet his eyes. “I kept my magic under control, how-” 

“When you are sitting this close to me I do not need your magic to tell you're stressed. You have been constantly straining your muscles since we passed through the gates and your knuckles are white from the strength with which you hold on to the reins. Evidently you are not feeling particularly calm.” 

“I'm just worried I will make a fool of myself.” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Well, yes, of course-” 

“Why?” 

You opened your mouth but noticed how no reasons came to mind, and pressed your lips together again. Even if you made a fool of yourself you wouldn't ever see them again afterwards; so what was the harm? You didn't belong to their kingdom anyway, nor did you need anything from them for which you had to have their respect. You loosened your grip on the leather. The only true thing to fear was if you broke something or gravely insulted someone, but as long as you said as little as possible and carefully watched your step, the probability of those things happening was minimal. 

You let out a little sigh and let the tension seep out of your back. “Thank you.” 

“We're here.” 

“Wait, what-” 

You looked up from your hands and saw how most of the horses were already being taken away by servants, the palace towering over everything in your sight - but before your anxiety could return, the prince's arm tightened ever so slightly around your waist. 

“I'll be at your side, worry not.” 

You nodded, and he let go. 

 

The ten of you were escorted inside by a man in simple, brown-coloured clothing; a servant, without doubt, yet you immediately noticed how he lacked vitamins in his diet. Were the servants not taken good care of? You inspected every servant that passed on their way to their chores, but each and every time you noticed the same things: slightly hollow cheeks, dull hair, and pale, slightly unhealthy-looking skin. The moment you were about to mention it to Loki, however, the group split up and a different servant came to escort you to your room. As panic surged through you you grabbed the leather of the prince's sleeve and met his gaze; but he smiled reassuringly. 

“Go change; we will do the same before meeting you in front of the throne room.” 

Even though you were still not very comfortable with the idea of being separated from him in a gigantic palace you let go, and followed the maid after a last glance backwards. 

The woman silently lead you through a maze of hallways only to stop in front of a seemingly random door, after which she curtsied and left. A chill ran down your spine. Were you just to go inside without knocking?  
You tapped your knuckles against the shining white metal, and when no answer came you decided to enter anyway. 

“Hello?” 

You peered through the opening. No one was there. You closed the door behind you and let your eyes glide over the luxurious room as you stepped further inside, trying not to make a single sound. A warm, ochre rug covered the centre of the floor, tapestries of the same colour decorated the pristine white walls on every side; but it were the white-wooden cabinets that caught your attention and piqued your curiosity. You opened a drawer, and disappointment dulled your enthusiasm. Empty. In the entire room there was not a single sign that told you it had been used by anyone, ever. It was bare, almost cold; devoid of any life. How long had this room gone unused? Was it yours for the time you stayed? 

Your eyes drifted to the large bed in the centre. Ochre bedsheets, of course. It looked far more comfortable than the beds at the inn, or your own bed back in Blacktree, yet you decided that, as long as you weren't sure that this was indeed where you would be sleeping, you were not even going to touch it. Maybe it was simply a private spot you could use to change. 

You gingerly pulled the dress from the bag Tove had given you and unfolded it, surprised to see it didn't have a single wrinkle, and just like two days ago the dark-green colour brought a smile to your face. If only mum and dad could see you wearing something so beautiful.  
You gently lay it on the wooden table underneath the window and pulled the curtains closed before stripping down to your underwear. You cast an awkward glance at the door, silently listening for any footsteps, and when you were certain no one was about to come in you undid the binding around your chest and swiftly slipped the dress over your head. It was then that you noticed you were in trouble: 

Your back needed to be fastened. 

Tove had kept her word about building a corset into the dress, yet you hadn't truly realised what it meant – you had never even seen one, so how should you have known it had to be laced? You reached for your back but you knew it was hopeless. Okay, you were not going to panic. No panicking. 

A knock sounded at the door and you jumped, your heart skipping multiple beats as the door immediately opened, and for a moment you expected a smugly smirking prince to stand in the opening; but to your relief it was only a young girl in servant's attire. 

“I'm here to help you get dressed, miss.” 

“Your help is much appreciated, thank you.” 

You smiled warmly, guessing her to be around nine or ten years of age, and without needing any further instructions she moved to stand behind you and began pulling on the lace – so hard you felt like all the air got squeezed from your lungs at once. You didn't dare say anything about it, however; her small hands moved without hesitation and it was obvious that she had done this countless times before. Only two minutes later and she was done. 

“Thank you so much,” you turned around to face her, but the hollow look in her blue-grey eyes took you aback. When you noticed she wanted to turn and leave you quickly spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?” 

She hadn't expected this, the light tensing of her shoulders told you as much, yet she kept her expression neutral. “Of course, miss.” 

“Do you get enough to eat? You and the others? Enough vegetables and such?” 

You could see a bit of fear creeping into her eyes, and her answer sounded as if she had rehearsed it many, many times. “The palace takes good care of us, miss. The royal family is very benevolent.” 

Your smile turned softer, more reassuring. “Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I'm a healer; I can see when someone lacks nutrition – and all of you who I have seen so far show the signs. What do your meals consist of?” 

She hesitated. It was obvious she was still cautious about trusting you, so you waited patiently for her to gather her courage and respond. 

“Porridge, miss. Sometimes we get the leftovers of other people's dishes, if we're lucky.” 

You blinked in disbelief. “Only porridge? For breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” The girl nodded solemnly, and you shook your head. “That is incredibly unhealthy, especially for someone as young as you. I'm sure most of you are easily affected by illness?” 

She nodded again, softly tugging on her dull, chestnut hair that would have fallen in gentle waves if it hadn't been for the lack of care. “Many of us fall ill all the time, but we can't show it or they might put us in a lower position to 'rest'. The food is even worse there and it's not safe for girls, because you will have to serve those who no one wants to serve.” 

The sadness in her eyes broke your heart. These were no conditions for a child to live in – even the poorest families in Blacktree were better off when it came to food and medicine. Something needed to be done. 

“Are any of you allowed to go outside?” 

“The older ones, when they have finished their chores. Why do you ask, miss?” 

You would stay just a day longer, wait just a day more to tell the prince. These people needed help. You nodded almost unnoticeably, determination settling within you as your brain started to concoct a plan. 

“Come see me tomorrow evening, after dinner, and bring me one or two of the older servants who are quick at doing their chores – yet not too old. They need to be able to work with their hands for a while. Is this the room where I will be staying?” 

“It is.” 

“Then you will find me here. Make sure to bring something like a large satchel, or a rucksack if you have one. What is your name?” 

“My name is Audhild. If I may be so bold as to ask, what are you planning, miss?” 

“I'm going to teach you where to find edible roots, berries, and vegetables; and if we're lucky I might even get my hands on some seeds for you to grow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the theories you come up with regarding the stranger from the marketplace :'3  
> The theories so far: The stranger is...  
> -A guy from Blacktree  
> -From healer's biological family  
> -The 'dragon' mentioned in the first couple of chapters  
> -The prince of Yllgard  
> -The dude that was an asshat to Brant's sister  
> -Brant's dad
> 
>  
> 
> If you have a clue as to what or who he is, please comment down below and I'll add your theory; or if you agree with one of those already mentioned, let me know! I love to see you all speculate while I sit here laughing like a villain >:D 
> 
> I made a quick sketch of the dress! You may imagine it however you like, though ;3
>
>> [Dress design Asgardian fashion](https://www.instagram.com/p/BWaGP7zhl2L/)   
> 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/ 


	28. XXVIII

Audhild waited patiently for you to brush your fingers through your hair and check your face one last time before escorting you out the room and down many halls; until you turned a corner and saw familiar faces in the distance. The party stood in front of two giant metal doors, a heavily armored guard on either side, and you knew what was behind them. The urge to throw up would have come back if it hadn't been for the reassuring sight of the handsome prince with slicked back hair the colour of the night, who had yet to notice you; much like everyone else. You softly wished the young maid goodbye before making your way over to them. 

The dress felt so soft against your skin, flowing silently as you walked down the pristine white hall; and you felt light, elegant, maybe even something close to pretty. Tove had even been so sneaky as to include matching shoes that fit just as good. 

Thor was the first to notice you and interrupted his conversation with his brother by falling silent and turning his head to look at you, a strange but warm sparkle appearing in his eyes, and soon all the other men followed his gaze; including Loki. 

His eyes grew wide. 

You had difficulty keeping the corners of your mouth down at their expressions so you briefly averted your gaze to the ground to find your resolve, a slight blush still dusting your cheeks when you looked up again – until your eyes met those of the fair-skinned prince, and your insides twisted with a shock. His eyes were darker, his expression akin to hunger, and your stomach turned violently again as your heart missed a couple of beats. Surely you must be misreading his glance – maybe he was merely surprised to see you wearing a dress? 

Your step slowed down for a fraction of a second as you hesitated to come closer: he looked almost dangerous. He stared at you, studied you, even more intense than he ever had before though you hadn't thought that to be possible. Did it look weird on you? Had you misjudged? Audhild had said you looked pretty; had she been lying in misguided politeness? Uncertainty settled in the back of your mind. Maybe wearing dresses just wasn't something for you after all. 

You averted your eyes from the prince's and searched for Brant; but what you saw didn't make it much better: shock. It was shock in his eyes; and most likely not the good kind. Thor was the first to speak, a massive smile on his face. 

“You look stunning, fit to meet the royal family of Yllgard!”

Relief washed away some of the doubt and you gratefully returned the smile. “Thank you.”

He turned back to his men and nodded once, at which everyone took their position. You could feel how Loki's eyes stayed on you as he came to stand left of you, placing you between him and his brother, and only when the gigantic doors opened did he avert them; yet you got the idea that his focus still lay on you. 

It was then you noticed that the entire throne room was filled with people. 

Your heart sped up, stumbled - this was not what you had expected.  
The group moved forward and the crowd split in two to form a pathway to the back, where stairs lead to a platform on which six thrones were seated. On the largest one in the middle sat the king, a man clad in white and ochre, with left of him his wife wearing the same colours. Their expressions were completely neutral, impossible to read, and it only made you more nervous. Right of the king sat his son, who wore accents of purple; and left of the queen sat the eldest daughter, wearing accents of pink, with her orange-wearing sister at her side. The whole family sitting in a well-organised row according to status; it was almost comical if it hadn't been so terrifying. 

You kept your eyes aimed at the floor in front of you, making sure you didn't trip over your own feet, until the three of you came to a halt and you quickly copied the princes as they lay their arm across their chest and bowed. 

You dared to glance up, knowing your eyes were probably as wide as those of a scared child; but then again that was exactly what you felt like. You accidentally met the foreign prince's gaze, a strange kind of dread making you uncomfortable, yet when you averted your eyes and met those of the eldest daughter the feeling got even worse. She stared at you, harshly, almost furiously, and even though her expression was perfectly neutral and regal, it was like her eyes were trying to set you on fire. You quickly looked at the ground again.

The king stood, lifted his white-golden scepter off the ground, and brought it down to connect with the marble floor again – the sound immediately causing the crowd to fall silent. 

“It is my honour to welcome you, Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson; princes of the kingdom of Asgard.”

You cast a glance at the raven-haired prince from the corner of your eye, but he didn't even as much as flinch at the wrong family name. The king continued. 

“You have proven yourself to be worthy; travelling over dangerous land and arriving without a scratch.” His eyes fell on you, and your heart skipped a beat. “I have heard rumors of a great healer; a woman who could even heal infertility.” 

Confusion struck you. How could he possibly know? It had only been a day ago-

“I assume that is you?” 

You met his gaze, swallowing to make sure your voice wouldn't waver. “It is an honour to meet you, your majesty.” 

He studied you for a moment, and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your veins in the short but pressing silence. You began to doubt everything already. Had you said something wrong? Was the praise not enough? Too much? Had you used the wrong tone? Had you offended him so soon? 

“I thank you for keeping these men alive; yet I must ask you a question.” 

You didn't know if you were to respond, so you silently waited, holding his gaze while your knees were starting to shake. 

The man glanced at your dress. “Are you wooing prince Loki?” 

A gasp ran over the audience and you felt like your heart was going to stop beating altogether; and yet the strange urge to laugh bubbled up within your chest – luckily you were able to keep it inside. 

“No sire, the prince and I are merely friends.” 

“Then why are you wearing his colour?”

You frowned. His colour? 

“I apologise, your majesty, but I must admit I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Every prince and princess has a colour – do you not know this?” 

Is that why everyone you have met so far wore cremes and browns? Because wearing a specific colour meant you were interested in one of the princes or princesses? Why hadn't Tove warned you?

_Does the other prince travel with you as well?_

Oh.  
Tove had assumed you knew about it, hadn't she? She probably thought you chose the colour for that reason specifically. It also explained why Loki's gaze had been so strange just now – you must have confused him by wearing his colour without a warning. You were such a fool. 

“My apologies, sire, but I didn't know. The colour of my dress means nothing; it was but a mistake.”

He nodded, without a doubt content with your answer. “Very well; I am glad to hear it was. Then the courting may begin. Ylva-” He turned to look at his eldest daughter, who nodded, stood, and looked at Loki. 

“I welcome you to my home, Loki Odinson. May our days spent together be fruitful in the growing of a bond, and may they prove of a connection fit to rule.” 

Wait- what? 

“I accept your hospitality, Ylva Brynjarsdaughter. May our days spent together be fruitful in the growing of a bond, and may they prove of a connection fit to rule.” 

It felt as if time stood still yet as if the room was spinning, and you were quickly growing unwell. Never, not once, had you asked anyone the purpose of the entire journey to Yllgard.  
Loki was to marry Ylva. Ylva was to marry Loki.  
You felt sick. 

The king let his scepter hit the floor once more. “Let the ball begin.” 

Loud chatter immediately rose and musicians began to play, and no second was lost before Ylva gracefully descended the stairs and extended her hand. Loki took it. Together they moved to the centre of the massive room; followed by the king and queen, and consumed the honour of being the first ones to dance. You couldn't look at it. 

You wanted to get out- you needed to get out. You turned, ready to make a beeline to the exit, until an unfamiliar voice addressed you. 

“Would you honour me with a dance?” 

You turned back to see the prince of Yllgard, his hand held up. Please, no.

“I-I'm sorry, I'm afraid I do not know how to dance.” 

“Don't worry about it, it is easy once you get used to it. Just follow my lead.” He smiled, but it wasn't a smile that reassured you – if anything it made you want to get out even faster.

Could you deny a prince? Would you be in trouble if you did? You tried to calm your racing heart. There was no way out of this, was there? Your head began throbbing as all possible excuses ran through your mind and scenarios of the consequences followed, anxiety shooting through you before you forced yourself to calm down more violently – yet without letting it show on the surface. 

“I apologise beforehand for stepping on your toes.” 

He laughed. “It's fine.” 

You lay your hand in his and allowed him to guide you to the dance floor. Even though the music was rather fast paced he started slow, showing you the order of the different steps and when to turn or twirl. It was surprisingly gentle, and your uneasiness lessened a bit. Had Brant once again been too quick to judge? You studied the man slowly leading you through the dance. He had light blond hair, and his blue eyes could easily be compared to the eyes of a newborn. But you shouldn't be too quick to trust – this weren't just any tales or rumours, after all: they were told from Brant's own experience. But didn't he have experience with serving Loki as well? 

You needed to get away, to find a quiet spot where you could order your thoughts and sort out the thunderstorm of emotions going on within your heart. So you decided to do something you never thought you would. 

You stepped on his toe. 

“I apologise-” you let go of his hands and stepped back, “it seems I truly need a tutor first before I can dance with skilled men like yourself. Please excuse me.” You bowed curtly and quickly sought cover in the crowd.

It took a while to maneuver your way to the exit, and as you moved through the last row of people you felt your heart sink: two more guards stood in front of the doors, spear-like weapons held tight and faces stern. It didn't look like they were going to let you through anytime soon. You were locked up, caged, no where to go nowhere to run nowhere to hide. Panic surged through you and if you didn't take action soon you were going to empty your bowels on the white marble floor.

You moved to the wall and spotted a window seat not too far away; and within moments you had claimed it. With your back against the wall and your eyes resting on the flowers outside you already felt more grounded. Slowly, your heart calmed a bit, the panic subduing. The music and the buzzing of voices still made it difficult to think, however, so there was no other option than to completely shut off your thinking all together and simply listen. 

It was then that someone took the seat next to you. 

You glanced up to meet the eyes of the youngest princess, who sent you a shy yet kind smile. 

“Is it okay if I join you here? I don't really like crowds.” 

You smiled back, not feeling any kind of dread or nausea in her presence. You took it as a good sign. “Of course; but shouldn't you be dancing?” 

“I bruised my ankle yesterday, so I'm letting it rest. Not that I want to dance, anyway.” 

You chuckled. “Could you show me?” 

She frowned slightly in confusion but lifted her skirt a bit to show the bandaging. You knew you were going to take a risk when you slid off your seat and bent down to lay your fingers on the skin above the linen, letting your magic do it's job; but it didn't feel like she would spread the word or kill you, and you trusted your instinct. Or maybe your rational thinking was still clouded by adrenaline, you didn't know. Not even a minute later you sat back down again. 

“All done. No one has to know, though, so you can just keep using it as an excuse for not dancing but without the actual discomfort of walking around with a bruised ankle.” 

Her mouth fell a little bit open. “You have the gift of magic!” 

You quickly put your index finger over your lips and made a hushing sound. “Keep it between us, okay?” 

She nodded, and you sent her another warm smile. It was obvious that she disliked being here as much as you did. You guessed her to be a few years younger than you, shy of character, possibly introverted, and you knew that people like that barely wished for powerful positions. You couldn't make assumptions, of course, but there was a certain discontent or sadness in her eyes that told you you weren't exactly wrong. 

She seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Are you really not interested in prince Loki?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“He has been looking at you ever since the ceremonial dance has started.” 

Your heart skipped a beat and you glanced at the crowd, catching glimpses of his formal attire as the people moved around but not being able to see his face. 

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded again, so you tried once more to peer through the crowd – and for a fraction of a second you found his blue-green eyes as they stared directly at you before someone blocked your view again. Only when you looked back at the princess did you notice you had stopped breathing and quickly took in some air. 

“He's probably just worried.” 

“You did look pretty terrified when my dad spoke to you.” She giggled shyly. “My name is Kari, by the way, if you didn't know already.” 

“I didn't - nice to meet your acquaintance. I must say, you are a lot less terrifying than your father.” 

She giggled again. “I'm glad. And what do you think of my brother?” 

Your grin faded a bit but you managed to keep a smile on your face. “He's a good dancer; very gentle, too.” 

“He seems to have his eyes on you as well. You're very popular with the men, aren't you? Sometimes I wish I could be as beautiful as women like you, as popular.” 

“N-no not at all, you've got it wrong – I'm merely a village girl; it must be the dress that is fooling you.” 

She shook her head. “You're really pretty. I even bet you could get each man in this room to fall in love with you.” 

You let out a loud laugh and quickly put your hands over your mouth. “Thank you for the compliment, princess Kari, but that is not something I would ever desire – nor should anyone ever desire it. Besides, beauty comes from the soul, from personality; that is what defines you, not the face you were born with. Someday a man or a woman will come to love you for who you are, even if you don't think of yourself as beautiful – which is also nonsense, by the way.” 

She looked at you as if you were some kind of holy object, eyes wide and a slight blush on her face, and you quickly changed the subject to the garden outside before she could thank you. 

 

You didn't know exactly how long the two of you had been talking, but it had at least been an hour or two. As the conversation came to a natural, comfortable silence, you noticed how much smaller the crowd had gotten; and one glance at the door told you that you could probably have escaped a long while ago. But this had been nice, just chatting about the palace and the gardens and her hobbies. 

“There he comes.” 

“Hm?” You followed her gaze and the butterflies erupted as Loki came striding towards you, glance dark. You quickly turned back to her. “I'll teach you about the herbs sometime, just come to me when it suits you.” You stood, ready to leave.

She nodded and stood as well, knowing it was best if she was gone before Loki reached you, and so she swiftly slipped away to stand with her brother and sister near the stairs leading to the thrones. You almost didn't dare to move your gaze back to the raven-haired prince coming at you, but you forced yourself to look – and within two more steps he stood in front of you.

His hand was suddenly on the small of your back and before you knew it he had pulled you against him, all kinds of different emotions exploding inside of you at the contact. 

“Are you trying to seduce me, my lady? Wearing my colour-”

You pushed against his chest and managed to set a step back, stomach twisting and turning at his intensely dark gaze. “I simply hadn't realised people could be so selfish as to claim an entire colour, my prince.” You tried to say it with a grin, but when you glanced past him you saw exactly what you had feared: Ylva was staring daggers at you. You set another step away from him. “My apologies if it has confused you. Now if you'll excuse me, the nerves have tired me rather thoroughly. Good night.” 

And with that you left, walking normally until you passed the gate and then increasing your pace as you followed the route back through the halls you had walked with Audhild a few hours ago. You entered your room, nearly slammed the door shut, leaned your back against it, and slid to the ground as tears ran freely down your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, oh shit, Ylva in da ~~house~~ palace! Heart = broken! 
> 
> Sorry those who thought the prince of Yllgard was the stranger at the marketplace - that theory has been debunked!
> 
> Here's the dress design, for if you missed it last chapter:  
> [Dress design Asgardian fashion](https://www.instagram.com/p/BWaGP7zhl2L/)  
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	29. XXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor suicidal thoughts.

You didn't notice how cold the floor was. You didn't pay attention to how your back – no, your entire body – was beginning to protest. You let yourself cry until you had no tears left and a piercing emptiness gave the opportunity for the pain to properly settle. 

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. 

It was all you could think, all you could feel, and you pressed your fingernails into the skin beneath your collarbones as if you wanted to rip through and take out your heart. Your magic was useless now as there was no physical injury, even though you felt like you were bleeding to death from multiple stab wounds that pierced too deep for you to be able to survive. 

You were such an idiot. Such a fool. Of course Loki was to marry a princess – hadn't you come to that conclusion ages ago? You should have been prepared, should have been indifferent or understanding instead of melodramatically crying on the floor in your momentary bedroom. Why couldn't you just get over it? Why did you have to be this weak? 

You moved the back of your arm over your itching face and pushed yourself to stand, even though it felt like your energy had drained together with the tears. Hoping the view from the window would calm you down you walked over to it, but apparently the universe wasn't done with you yet: 

Loki strode calmly through the gardens, princess Ylva at his arm. 

With your muscles heavily tensed to stop the pain from growing you watched them and tried to read their lips and figure out what they were talking about; but both to no avail. You understood why he would fall for her. She was royal, and more beautiful than any woman you had ever seen; with her pristine white skin and even whiter hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. The soft pink of her loose, flowing dress matched the tone of her lips and made her seem ethereal; godly even, like she wasn't meant for this realm. Never had you ever seen anyone that pale; not even the prince came close – but they looked absolutely gorgeous together. You had always thought of green and pink as a beautiful match. 

Tears threatened to return so you quickly stepped away, moving to the large bed and throwing yourself on top of it. You had been so stupid to think there was a change that he had been flirting with you. It had merely been teasing, like he always did. He just liked seeing your reactions. You curled inwards and held your stomach with incredible force, dug your nails further into the skin of your chest. You were pathetic. 

You could no longer continue with your plan. If you told him how you felt, the chances that you were going to burst into tears were even greater than before – it would be almost imminent – and it simply wouldn't be fair. Not that you were any match for Ylva, but she had already been glaring daggers at you for simply wearing green; and you didn't want to find out how she would look at you after you had confessed. Would she have you killed? Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

You shook your head. Loki would probably need a friend in times like this, to tell him that he was doing great, or to give him advice on how to win the affections of a woman; so dying wouldn't be fair towards him. Could you ever be truly fair to all of the parties involved? You sighed. For now the only option was to stay quiet, to push away your feelings even more forcefully than before. You were going to be a great friend – supportive, reassuring, helpful; and when you noticed he no longer needed you, that was when you could finally leave. Quietly. He would continue living his life with princess Ylva at his side and you would go back home, to Blacktree, far, far away from him and any talk about him-

You nearly choked on a sob. You hated this; your eyes puffy and your cheeks itching and salt being all you could taste. You hated yourself for allowing yourself to hope in the end, because this is where it had gotten you: curled up like an unborn baby yet crying as a born one. You were so pathetic. So impossibly pathetic. 

A knock sounded at the door and you immediately silenced your sobbing, holding your breath as if to hide your presence all together. Again, two knocks, more urgent now. You cleared your throat and quickly spoke before whomever it was on the other side would enter. 

“Who is there?” To your relief you had managed to make it sound casual. 

“It's Audhild, miss. I bring dinner, as we got word you might not be attending it tonight.” 

“Just a moment-” 

You quickly stood and rushed to the mirror, smoothing over your dress even though it still hadn't wrinkled and wiping away the trails of water on your face. An illusion would be very useful now, but alas. 

You opened the door. “Please, come in.” 

And she did. With in her hands a plate of the same white metal as almost anything else in the palace she moved over to the table that stood underneath one of the windows, and carefully placed it down as not to spill any of the food on top of it. She then turned around, noticed your face, and froze. 

“Is everything all right, miss? Did something go wrong?” 

You forced a smile on your lips. “Nothing I couldn't have predicted. It's fine, worry not. Please stay and have dinner with me, I can't possibly eat that all on my own.” 

It looked delicious, sure, but right now you felt like anything you ate would come back up immediately. She watched you for another moment, probably deciding if she was to take your offer. 

“Are you sure, miss?” 

You nodded. “You need it much more than I do. Take a seat.” 

You walked over to the table yourself and sat down on the chair that offered not even a glimpse of the garden. Audhild quickly followed, and began to stuff her mouth with food you had never seen before; yet you didn't even feel curious enough to inspect it. No, it was difficult to feel anything at all, now. A comfortable silence fell for a while, until she found a moment between bites to speak. 

“You should eat too, miss.” 

“I know, I'm just... I'm just not very hungry.” You hesitantly took a couple of things off the plate and lay it on the table. “I'll keep his here for later. Eat as much as you like, then go bring the plate to the other servants who need it.” 

“You are very kind, miss; the kindest of the ladies that have come here. If there's anything we can do for you, please let us know – we will be happy to serve you.” She stuffed another red, fruit-like thing in her mouth.

A genuine smile found its way onto your lips. “Thank you, I'll keep it in mind. Now go, before they start wonder about what is taking you so long.” 

With the half-filled plate in her hands she scurried out the door, and you were alone again. Who had told her that you weren't going to attend dinner? Not that you were actually going to attend it – you hadn't even known that you were to do so. Had it been Loki, since you had told him you were tired and had wished him good night? Or did Brant know you were feeling horrible after finding out about Ylva? Why hadn't he mentioned her sooner? Why hadn't he told you that Loki was betrothed to someone? 

You rubbed your hands over your face and sighed. It didn't matter. All that mattered now was that you didn't have to sit at the same table as the royal family. Could you skip dinner for every night that you were here? Or would that be considered rude? You stared into nothingness, letting your mind run for a bit. It was tiring to constantly keep your thoughts restrained. Don't think about this, don't think about that, it's not necessary or it will only get you hurt; so many rules even though no one had forced them on you. No one could read your thoughts, and you doubted the pain could get much worse, so what was still holding you back from thinking whatever you wanted to think? 

You could think about Loki's hands on your skin because neither Loki nor Ylva would find out anyway. You could fantasize about what his lips would feel like on your body. You could touch yourself while imagining his mouth on your neck and no one would know.  
But soon the images in your head distorted, twisted, until his hands were on Ylva's skin, his lips claiming hers instead of yours, her moans of pleasure ringing through your mind and it felt like your heart was slowly crumbling into dust. Not only were you foolish, pathetic, and ignorant; but now a jealous quim as well. 

It was then that you spotted the door on the other side of the room. 

Glad that a bit of curiosity could push your thoughts to the background you stood, walked over to it, turned the knob, and pushed. It was unlocked. Would it be a secret passageway to the garden or to the stables? Or maybe a personal library? But your childish guesses were immediately forgotten when you spotted the basin of water in the middle of the room and smelled the scent of flowers that undoubtedly came from the few vials decorating the broad rim. You weren't fully disappointed, though – quite the opposite: this might be exactly what you needed. 

You felt the water with a hand. Cold. It had probably been prepared for your arrival, yet you had completely missed it. But if you could light wood on fire, then surely you could heat up water? Easier said than done, it seemed: it took you a solid thirty minutes to get it at a comfortable temperature, but at least it had worked. With some difficulty you managed to undo the tied lace on your back, and after you had wriggled yourself out of your dress and underwear you carefully slipped into the hot water. 

You had been right – this was exactly what you needed. 

You closed your eyes and submerged yourself for a while, enjoying the absence of sound and the embrace of the warmth. It soothed not only your muscles but even your heart and mind, and, for a moment, it felt like everything would be all right. You were calm now. You could think rationally again. All you needed was a plan and some self-control and you could make it through this; it was far from the worst thing that could happen. You surfaced again and took in a deep breath. 

First and foremost you would have to hide your feelings, of course, and appear as though you were fine. It might become difficult at times, but that couldn't be avoided – you just had to keep calm and postpone the emotional outbursts and whatnot until you were back in the privacy of your room. If you were, for whatever reason, unable to hold back the tears, you could hit your arm or leg against the nearest object and act as if it was an accident; or maybe you could blame it on a sad novel if you could find one. That would be your next goal for now: find a book and carry it with you at all times. What more... Something to subdue the mental pain; and preferably something that could give your energy a boost to continue. A trip to the garden to find some nettle and roseroot as your second goal, then; maybe a visit to the palace healers. 

If you didn't want to arouse suspicion from either Loki himself or the others you needed to attend dinner – every day, no matter how much you dreaded it. You would have to be able to hold a decent conversation and answer questions that you might not like, especially if Ylva wanted to drive you and Loki apart or if the foreign prince truly had his eyes on you; but you couldn't make assumptions just yet. There was most likely going to be alcohol, but you forbid yourself to drink unless there was no other option. You doubted everyone had breakfast together yet there was still a chance that that was a thing, and so you shouldn't get up too late. Too much isolation would most definitely make people wonder. You needed to appear social, warm, unchanged; even though, at this moment, you were none of those three things. 

If only you had had Audun at your side right now. 

He had always known how to cheer you up or how to get your mind off of things, offering some kind of advice, though usually useless, when you needed it, or being there for you when you simply needed someone to talk to - and by Yggdrasil did you need someone to talk to.  
A strange kind of loneliness settled in your heart. Maybe this 'adventure' had cost you more than you found it to be worth. It had cost you your most precious friend, and now, once more, it was going to cost you the same thing but worse: it was going to cost you the man you were in love with. And what had you gained? Knowledge. You had chosen knowledge of medicine over the warmth and safety of your own home. What kind of foolish decision was that? 

You lowered yourself underneath the surface again, watching how the bubbles escaped your lips and drifted upwards. 

It wasn't true: you hadn't chosen knowledge over your family. You had chosen for the chance to see the world, to experience new things, to meet new people and to make new memories, and you had done all of these things and more. You had cured a woman, tried foreign fruits and worn a beautiful dress; you had seen the colours of the night's sky, heard unknown birds sing as you traveled through unexplored lands on the back of a horse, and now you were having a bath in the palace of the second largest kingdom of the realm. You knew what love felt like now, and heartbreak, jealousy, lust. A whole range of new, intense emotions. 

You sat up, sighed, and took the cork out of one of the vials. Lavender. Was this to wash yourself with or was it simply to scent the water? You poured a bit in the basin before putting the cork back in and returning it to its spot. You truly were too much of an over-thinker, weren't you? Going round and round in circles of thoughts, reaching conclusions only to doubt them again. How your brain hadn't exploded yet was beyond you. 

You spent a little while longer enjoying the water, until you stopped heating it with your magic and the cold drove you out. You put on your underwear and one of your least dirty shirts – maybe tomorrow you could wash your outfits in the bathtub – and crawled underneath the ochre sheets, where you waited for sleep to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	30. XXX

As if sensing the urgency even while unconscious, your body awoke before the sun had even started to rise. This day you would complete three of your small goals, if all went well: you would find a book that you could blame for your tears, you would find herbs to keep you on your feet, and you would meet a few of the servants in the evening so you could help them improve their lives, if only just a little bit. But you couldn't get started just yet. 

You changed into your dress and left the back open as you had no other option, but you didn't worry like as yesterday: Audhild would probably come soon to help with fastening it. Until she came and until you could ask her whether there was a communal breakfast you still had some leftover time on your hands; so you got your clothes out of your bag, washed them thoroughly in the basin after heating the water, and hung them to dry on a rack you guessed was meant for towels – and when no space was left on that you hung them on and over whatever else you could find.  
After sprinkling them with some of the lavender-scented liquid from one of the vials you set a step back and watched the almost hilarious contrast between your low-quality clothing and the pristine white walls of the luxurious bathroom. You couldn't wear these ever dirty-looking outfits for as long as you were here, so you would have to wash your dress tonight and hope that it was dry by tomorrow morning – or you could risk setting fire to it by trying to evaporate the water with your magic, but that wasn't even a true option in your mind.

A knock on metal pulled you from your musings, and you swiftly moved to the door to open it. 

“Good morning Audhild! Please, come in.” She stepped inside and you closed it behind her again. 

“It is good to see you're looking cheerful, miss.” 

She moved around you and her hands skillfully started to lace the back of your dress. You smiled a rather doleful smile, glad she could not see it, before remembering the question you meant to ask and putting the same casual tone to your voice as before. 

“I apologise for my lack of knowledge about how things are done in the palace, but does the royal family consume breakfast together? And if so, do they want me to be there?” 

She finished by tying a tight bow on the small of your back. “They do, miss, and of course they want you to be there! Together with the princes you are their honoured guest.” 

“Even though I am simply their healer?” 

She moved back around to meet your eyes, a smile on her face. “The status of a royal healer is rather high, and are you not friends with one of the princes?” 

You smiled. “Word travels fast around here, doesn't it?” 

She responded with a snicker, and for a moment her eyes truly looked like those of a young girl instead of a woman of age. “We are everywhere, miss, even though we mostly go unnoticed. Gossiping is what we do best – apart from our services, of course.” 

This information was nothing what you hadn't expected, but hearing her say it only convinced you even more that it was essential to keep your feelings hidden for every single moment of the day. 

“I would love to hear some of your rumours one of these days, but I wouldn't want to get you in trouble for slacking.” 

Her grin widened. “I'll make sure to finish off my chores early tomorrow, miss! But for now it might indeed be best if I lead you to the breakfast hall; it's better to arrive early than to let them wait.” 

 

She took you on a route through the palace you desperately tried to remember; yet everything looked the same and after turning a few corners you had already lost all sense of direction. How you had found your way back to your room yesterday afternoon was a complete and utter mystery to you. Finally, after taking a last right, you recognised Loki's figure walking a bit further away, and Audhild left you to catch up with him. 

Was he wearing a cape? You had difficulty holding in your laugh and quickly put a hand over your mouth. With a grin on your face you stalked closer, keeping your magic well-hidden, not making a single sound. Closer, closer. Then, with a playful cry, you jumped forward and held your hands out to attack his sides with wriggling fingers-

he turned around and caught your wrist. 

You glanced up, shocked, but when you saw the large smirk on his face your heart calmed down again and your own grin reappeared. 

“I guess I should have known better?” 

“Obviously-” But he fell silent as his eyes lowered to your chest, your wrist still caught in his gentle grasp. 

“What is that?” 

With his free hand he touched the skin beneath your collarbones and your eyes grew wide, your cheeks growing red within a fraction of a second. 

You tried to pull your wrist free and step back, but he kept a firm hold. “Loki, what-” 

“Who did this to you?” He sounded angry now, and there was fire in his eyes, but it wasn't aimed at you. 

“What?” You stopped resisting, but kept your abdominal muscles tensed against the butterflies. His cool fingers were still resting on the area above your bosom and you tried to keep the perverted thoughts at bay. 

“These marks.” He finally took his hand away; but not the one holding onto you. 

You looked down to see the small bruises, a darker spot in the form of a waning moon at each centre, where last night you had pushed your fingernails into your skin as if to rip out your heart and stop yourself from hurting. You hadn't expected it to leave bruises – you hadn't really given it any thought at all as your mind had been too occupied. You didn't have an excuse ready, but one soon came to mind. 

“I think I did it to myself; I had a nightmare about the stranger.” It sounded convincing, and to your relief he did indeed seem convinced. Worry crept into his eyes, too, but he played it off with a smile and a facade of mischief. 

“It seems that your presence is the only thing that keeps me from having nightmares, and, vice versa, that it is my presence that keeps your dreams under control. I could show you the way to my chambers right now-” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don't flatter yourself; it's been years since I've had a nightmare.” 

Even the cover-up mischief faded now, and all that was left in his gaze was worry. He let go of your wrist. “He cannot harm you here inside the palace. There are too many guards, too many servants to witness anything he might try. Stay close to me and he won't even dare as much as think about hurting you.” 

You smiled, hoping it didn't seem empty. “I wouldn't want to infringe on both your privacy.” 

“Both?” 

“This is your time with princess Ylva. You can't keep me standing next to you even if it's to protect me; it just isn't right.” You noticed how his eyes widened a bit and how he parted his lips to start speaking, but you were quicker. “She wouldn't feel comfortable with it, especially with me wearing this dress.” 

He studied you for a moment. You kept your gaze determined. Finally, he sighed. “Always thinking of others first, even if it is your own safety at stake. I wonder how you have survived this long.” 

You snickered. “I know when to be selfish, my prince, but right now just isn't the time for it. It is as you say: he cannot do me harm as there are too many people around to spot him. Do not let me keep you from spending your time with the princess.” 

Before he could answer Thor's distant voice and laugh boomed through the hallway and both of you turned your heads to see him approach with the foreign prince at his side, whose eyes met yours. Your shoulders tensed a bit. How was it that a single glance from some people could send a chill down your spine? Still, you managed to smile and wish them good morning, and the four of you entered the breakfast hall together, where most of the royal family was already seated. 

Princess Ylva's eyes shot towards you, and you came to the conclusion that the chill-inducing glances were a family trait. 

The only one who truly smiled at you was princess Kari, the youngest, whose ankle you had healed. Had you become careless in the hiding of your magic? You had, hadn't you? Two months ago you wouldn't even have thought about healing something as simple as a sprained ankle in only a few seconds time and without a salve to blame for the mysteriously fast recovery. Was it because you had found someone else like you, who had promised – multiple times – to protect you? But to what extend could Loki protect you from the king and queen of a different kingdom than the one to which he belonged? It might be best to keep it as secret as possible. 

Loki went to sit opposite of Ylva and nudged you to follow him, which you did, though reluctantly, as your spot gave you the perfect view of Ylva's hateful glances. At least you had both Loki and Thor at your side, and you could focus on Kari in front of you if you needed someone to talk to. Another thing that made you slightly regret your decision was the foreign prince, sitting on Kari's right on the opposite side of the table and almost directly in your field of vision – which he gladly seemed to make use of: he sent you a smile so saccharine sweet you felt your appetite leave you, and you quickly averted your gaze to your plate. This was already getting difficult. To make it worse not even the king and queen, each sitting at an end of the table, simply let you be. 

“Your presence was missed during dinner last night, young healer.” 

You met the king's eyes, nerves twisting a knot in your intestines. “My apologies, sire; the long journey had tired me thoroughly. I hope I did not offend you.” 

He hummed as a nondescript reply, and left it at that. Ylva, however, took over. 

“Oh but father, you forget that it is in no way required to attend every joint dinner or breakfast. If she wishes to rest, it is only to be expected that she chooses to regain her strengths instead of dine with us. Being a healer must be exhausting, after all.” 

If those words had been spoken by any other person you might have been relieved at the kindness; but you could hear the well-hidden undertone of venom that made her message clear: there was no need for you to attend every joint dinner or breakfast, so don't dare to come more often. You met her eyes to see if you had maybe heard things that were not there, but her gaze quickly destroyed that hope and irritation began to bubble inside of you – especially at the concealed insult aimed at your profession. Little did she know it was indeed very exhausting to be a healer at times. 

But you weren't going to respond. She was possibly trying to get a reaction out of you, and one wrong word could mean your downfall. She might try to make a fool of you, or to drive you and Loki apart, and you weren't going to allow either of that. You would be the one to end the friendship, not some woman claiming to be better than you. 

Would Loki truly fall for her? He probably didn't notice her animosity towards you, and you understood her albino beauty was blinding. Even now you couldn't fully comprehend that someone so beautiful could be so hostile. 

Your thoughts were running rampant again and you cast your eyes back down at your white-metal plate. No jumping to conclusions. No judging. It was impossible to know someone within a single day, and so it wouldn't be fair to mark her as a vile person right away. Maybe if you showed her you meant no harm she would warm up to you. 

The food arrived and everyone filled their plates. Thor conversed with the queen and the prince, Loki conversed with Ylva, and the king, Kari, and you sat silently as you ate. You hated how much she flirted with him. You hated how jealous you felt. You had always liked hearing Loki's voice, but now that it was in a conversation with her it was sheer torture. At least you got a little bit of satisfaction out of the fact that she didn't manage to get a single chuckle from him. Gods, you truly were like a petty child. 

You managed to eat a bit, but a second glance from Yllgard's prince later and your appetite was fully lost. Luckily princess Kari started a conversation, giving you the opportunity to shut yourself off from the painfully flirty conversation next to you. 

“What do you think of the palace?” 

“It's rather large, and I'm definitely going to get lost sometime soon,” she snickered, and you smiled in response, “but it's nice. I love the different scented oils you have provided me with, and the bed is more than comfortable.” You remembered your excuse for the bruises on your chest, and your hand unconsciously went up to touch them. Kari's eyes followed. 

“How did you get that?” 

“Ah, it's nothing. I had a nightmare, that's all.” 

Ylva turned her head and quickly found what the two of you were talking about. “Can't you heal it?” She asked it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and as if you were stupid for not realising it, but wrapped it up in a warm tone and a kind smile. 

You smiled back, keeping your voice as warm as hers. “I think not even those with the gift of magic could heal it, your highness. Bruises are not the injury itself, which are broken capillaries, but are caused by the blood that leaks under the skin.” 

She was not happy with your witty reply even though it simply was the truth, but she hid it well, and nodded. “Strange how the body works, isn't it?” She glanced at Loki through her white lashes and sent him a sly and playful smile. “There is so much I still have to learn.” 

And she was back at flirting again. Frustration rose and your mouth spoke before you could stop yourself. 

“I would love to give you a few lessons in basic biology, if you wish.” 

Both Loki and Kari snorted, Kari nearly choking on her drink and Loki quickly hiding his grin behind his hand as he attempted to keep his face neutral. Ylva's eyes stood furious.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” 

“Not at all, princess. The subject of biology is merely too broad to cover, and goes too deeply for someone not familiar with it.” 

Kari and Loki were desperately trying to keep in their laugh and now the others at the table had fallen silent to listen too. Ylva's face was slowly growing redder, and although you knew that this wasn't going to end well for you, you enjoyed every second of this – especially since your tone was still warm and kind, like hers had been. Apparently revenge did indeed taste sweet. 

“Yet you assume that I am not familiar with it. What has possibly led you to this incorrect conclusion?” 

“I think our definitions of 'familiar' differ in this case, your highness. As a healer, I grew up reading and learning about the Asgardian body and gaining experience in my profession, and I have therefore grown quite familiar with it. I am sure you are more knowledgeable on the subject than most, but, as you said yourself, there is still a lot to learn.” 

You could see how she was struggling to find a proper response and so she glanced at Loki, only to see the amusement in his eyes and grow even more indignant. It was hard to keep the corners of your mouth from twitching upward. But then her gaze changed, calmed, grew cold, and the words she spoke were not what you had expected. 

“Maybe I should take your offer then. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, you will teach me about the things you apparently know so much of.”

She could see the dread creeping into your eyes and her grin grew, but you kept your voice formal. 

“It is an honour, your highness.” 

This is what your wit had gotten you into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ai, healer's wittiness has gotten her in trouble! Not always a virtue, then~ especially not when mixed with a bit of jealousy!
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	31. XXXI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah sorry for the late update! I think my mind lagged a bit as I thought the next chapter only needed to be updated tomorrow for some reason :S  
> Oh well, at least the wait for the next update will be shorter?

The empty plates were removed from the table by silently moving servants, and the communal breakfast had ended. Before Ylva could stand and ask Loki to come with her you softly nudged his side to get his attention. 

“I need to ask a favour of you.” 

“Do you truly want to owe me twice?” 

You frowned. “Twice? What was the first time?” 

“You couldn't find the right payment for my lessons in magic.” 

He was right, but you rolled your eyes nonetheless. “That one lesson, you mean, where you said two or three sentences that were truly of any help.” 

He smirked. “How about you tell me what you want, and then I will decide on the right compensation?” 

“That is the same thing as owing you, only you immediately make use of it!”

“And I will still have one more.” Voice as smooth as silver, sweet as honey. 

A sigh escaped your lips. “Fine. I need seeds of easily grown vegetables and herbs, and I wondered if you could teleport them over. I made a list.” You looked around to make sure no one was watching and quickly slipped your hand into your corset, pulling out the piece of paper only a fraction of a second later. “Here.” 

He unfolded it and scanned it over. “Why would you need this?” 

“How do you want me to pay you?” 

He glanced at you, scanned your eyes, before folding the list again and putting it in his pocket. “First tell me what you need it for, then I will decide.” 

You knew he couldn't leave this be, and so grinned mischievously. “If you truly want to know, then how about we call my explanation the payment?” 

“Smart woman, holding my lust for knowledge against me. I'm impressed.” He grinned back. “All right.” 

You glanced around once more to make sure no one was listening in on you. Ylva still stood on the other side of the table, beginning to grow _very_ impatient, but she was still out of earshot if you kept your voice hushed. 

“The servants here do not get the vitamins they need, and easily fall ill because of it. I am going to show them how to sustain a little garden with vegetables and herbs. There are children, Loki; and men and women and maybe even elderly who live with malnourishment even though everyone else in the palace feasts. This might not help much, but it's something.” 

He shook his head with a smile playing on his thin lips and that delicate emotion in his eyes. “Always thinking about others; I shouldn't be surprised. I will make sure these seeds are brought to your chambers – unless, of course, you still want to take me up on my offer to share mine-” 

“Princess Ylva is waiting for you.” You had said it loud enough for the woman to hear and her piercing eyes immediately found yours as you pushed back your chair and stood. “I'll see you at dinner, then.” 

He stood as well. “If it's not sooner.” 

“Probably not.” You gave him a last smile, sent one in Ylva's direction as well, bowed your head in a polite goodbye, and strode out of the hall. 

 

 

You were lost. You were absolutely, undoubtedly lost. No wonder when all the hallways looked the same, with their walls of white metal, their floors of even whiter marble, and their ochre banners that hung in the exact same spot no matter which corner you turned. It was like everyone had disappeared as well, like you were alone in this gigantic maze of white regality. Great. You could swear you had passed through this particular hall before and you felt like you were going in circles, or squares, or whatever. 

You had hoped to find at least one of four things: the library you were sure existed somewhere in the palace, a way to enter the gardens, the herbalist's chambers, or the chambers of Brant and the others; and you had found none of that – not even a single clue that could lead you in the right direction. Brant had worked here, so he should probably still know the way, right? If only you could find him. You hadn't seen him since the ball yesterday, but maybe communal breakfasts or even dinners were not something for soldiers to attend? They were still Thor's men, however, and if you were allowed to dine with the royal family only because you had kept Asgard's princes from dying, then shouldn't they have double the right to come? Who knew how far they had already had to travel before you joined them, or how much danger they had already had to face? Well, they knew, of course, but apparently there was no way to find them and ask about it. 

You let out a frustrated sigh. 

Even though walking this much was a good way to keep yourself from growing lazy, it also was a considerable waste of time when you definitely had better things to do. You didn't know how long the whole courting thing would take, and if there would be a marriage immediately afterward – a pang shot through your heart, but you ignored it – but it was likely to assume that it wouldn't take more than a couple of weeks and so your time here was limited. Sure, it was longer than you had expected to be here at first, yet you couldn't start throwing away your time simply because you had gained a little. 

But, as with all mazes, there was a way out. You put your hand against the wall and started following it, every turn and every curve so as to reach the end sometime, until suddenly you no longer needed to – a servant rushed down the hall. 

“Excuse me!” 

He glanced your way, slowing down. He had the same hollow cheeks as the others, but his eyes stood lively with haste, and you almost felt bad for adding more stress to it. 

“I'm lost. Could you please tell me where to find the soldier's quarters?” 

“Follow this hall, take the second turn left, then the first right, and walk all the way to the end until you see two large doors leading to the Soldier's Wing.” 

“Thank you-” 

He quickly nodded in response and continued on his way. 

 

Second left... First right... All the way to the end. The servant was, as expected, right: two giant doors doomed up at the end of the hallway. With surprisingly little difficulty you pushed one open, but your relief diminished a little when it was yet another white and ochre hall ahead. It felt like this entire palace was built for the sole purpose of making people lose both their way and their mind. 

But then you heard voices – voices you recognised, and a smile grew on your lips. 

The door swung open almost immediately after your knock and Jari appeared, surprise blooming on his face. 

“What are you doing here, miss? This is the men's part of the wing, those for women is a few halls down. And besides, haven't they given you one of those fancy chambers?” There was no envy or grudge in his words, merely confusion. 

“They did, but I was wondering where all of you were staying; and I was hoping Brant could lead me to the library as he probably still knows his way around from the time he served here.” 

“Come in, it's not safe for you to stand there.” 

You stepped into the hall-like room, scanning the smaller and less luxurious beds placed with their headboards against the walls, a bedside table and a large chest against the footboard the only other furniture assigned to each man.

Jari closed the door behind you and waited for everyone to be done greeting you before he explained. “The men here in Yllgard have slightly different moral values than we have; and these differences are less favorable for a woman's safety, if you know what I mean.” 

You frowned, disgusted. “Surely they can't get away with that?” 

“In Asgard they won't, but here the rules work a bit differently. This will be the first time that a woman takes the throne of Yllgard and that there will be a king at her side instead of the other way around, and the former kings were rather... Well, they were assholes. They liked drinking and fucking, with no care for the consequences or for what it did to others, and they set an example.” 

Brant nodded. “It's best if you don't wander around these parts on your own, especially after dinner. The men here drink more ale in one hour than a dehydrated horse could drink water during an entire day.” 

You made a mental note to never forget to take your contraceptive herbs. You had calculated rape as a risk when traveling, especially after all those Blacktree tales of danger, and had taken enough of those herbs with you to last at least half a year even though your first incentive was to fight back, of course. Yet you could never be too careful. 

“Maybe princess Ylva and prince Loki will bring an end to that?” Because surely Loki wouldn't allow things to continue that way, right? 

“I don't think either of them cares. They both just want a throne, and this is the way to get it,” Iver responded with an indifferent shrug, his three-fingered archer's glove still firmly secured around his wrist. He didn't trust staying here unarmoured either, then.

“How long does the whole courting thing take before they get married?” Even though your heart twisted painfully inside your chest you had managed to make your question sound rather casual. 

He thought for a moment, shifting his weight on the mattress. “About a week, I think, but they don't marry right away – there will be an entire ceremony, and lots of things need to be prepared.” 

A week – your heart sped up a little. There was even less time left than you thought. A week before you had to go, to leave this behind, leave _him_ behind-

“I'm glad when it's all done and we can go home without him. He deserves a bitch like her,” Einer spat, “and that bitch deserves a dick like him. The only thing I'm afraid of is that they will start wars or some shit like that.” 

Once more you were reminded of the fact that you didn't exactly like Einer. You hadn't spoken much to him during the journey, but when you had, every word he had said had either been to complain or to judge, and even his face was a constant frown. Had you ever seen him smile? Perhaps the others had.  
At first you had searched for reasons that might have caused his constant pessimism; that he hated traveling or that his friends died in the attack that had caused the party to come to Blacktree, but the others had contradicted those excuses and so you had stopped searching for them. It was better to just ignore it. 

You turned your head to glance at the others. “So none of you believe me yet? That prince Loki is truly not a bad man?” 

“Well, he did get better after you came along, miss,” Stigr said, “and we have never seen him smile or heard him laugh this much; but that is probably because you're great company. Princess Ylva isn't, and he might get even worse than before if he spends much time with her, let alone when he marries her.” 

Trygve grinned. “You're already wearing green, so maybe you should marry him, miss! To keep him under control, make sure he doesn't hurt anyone-” 

All voices rose in disagreement. 

“She deserves much better, Trygve.” Brant shot him a look, before shifting his gaze to you. There was worry in it, and sadness, but also determination as he spoke once more. “It is best for everyone if Loki marries soon and moves out of Asgard.” 

As all the men agreed with acknowledging hums and nods your heart grew heavy, and the pain came back. Why was he saying things like this, looking at you like that, when he knew how much it hurt? Of course you knew that it was better if he married, and of course you knew you had been stupid to fall for a prince, but shouldn't friends console instead of rubbing salt into the wound? You casually changed the subject, knowing you wouldn't be able to hear much more of this. 

“Anyway, I was hoping you could show me the way to the library? Or at least draw me a map of this maze, so I can find it on my own.” 

Brant nodded, smiling bleakly as he was aware of the invisible dagger he had added to the ones already piercing your chest. “I'll come with you.” 

 

Silence stretched on as the two of you walked, but it wasn't a comfortable one – at least not for you. You had wanted to speak to him about it, had wanted his emotional support, but now you weren't sure whether he would be able to provide it or if he would even listen to you in the first place. He was still so convinced that Loki was a monster; why couldn't he trust your word that the man was far from it? You had simply wanted him to hug you as you cried, like the day you had told him how you had fallen for the raven-haired prince, but now you felt as if there was a distance between the two of you that you couldn't cross. And so the silence lasted, until you reached your destination.

“The library is on the other side of these doors. Your chambers are near the throne room, right? Just continue down this hall and then take the second last turn to the left.” 

A smile appeared on his lips, even though it was a sad one, and you managed to pull up the corners of your lips a bit as well. “Than you. Will all of you be there at dinner?” 

“We will.” 

“I will see you tonight, then.” 

He nodded, meeting your eyes for one last time, before he turned and walked back down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the late update. I totally forgot because I actually had a date and did things normal people with social lives do! I've still got to finish up a 'what if' scenario linked to Fǫruneyti, but it hasn't actually happened in the 'canon' universe of this fic - it will be fluffy though, so keep an eye out for when that comes~ It should be up before Sunday. 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	32. XXXII

You stood silently in the dimly lit room, surrounded by books that seemed to have been forgotten. Dust filled your lungs with every breath. It had been a while since anyone had been here, you could feel it; the atmosphere had something dystopian about it, like time no longer held a grip on this room even though it continued outside of it. It was rather soothing, but you knew you had to get out before you lost all sense of time and space completely – there were still things you needed to do, and letting yourself disconnect from reality wasn't exactly helpful. You quickly began to scan the spines.  
After a while you found a novel to blame for any tears if they were to come, and not much later you even found some books with illustrations that you could use for teaching Ylva about biology tomorrow morning. Even though you didn't want to spend any time with her whatsoever, you still didn't regret speaking up – it was almost like a tiny, personal victory; and possibly the only revenge you would get. Would she actually listen to your explanations and such? Or would she decide that she had better things to do, after all?

With the books occupying your arms you pushed open the door with your behind and followed the instructions Brant had given you to get back to your room, glad you could still remember them. 

As you made your way over to the bed you noticed the white-metal tray and the dark green pouches that lay on it; so you put your cargo on the sheets and reached to grab one of them, opening it to find spinach seeds inside. With a fond smile on your lips you carefully held a few in your hand. Two of your goals had been reached for today, and it was only noon. Loki truly wasted no time when it came to a favor, did he? Maybe you should have allowed yourself to owe him twice; it might have given you an excuse to sleep next to him again, or at least to spend a bit more time in his presence. Your smile slowly faded. No, that would only make it hurt more in the end, and besides, he would soon have Ylva to keep his nightmares at bay. 

“Sometimes, when you think no one sees, deep sorrow fills your eyes - yet you never speak of it.” 

You jumped and quickly turned around to meet Loki's gaze. The light filtering through the window gave him an ethereal glow and illuminated his face in a way that took your breath. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, my prince-” 

“Do not change the subject.” 

He held your gaze captive. If you hadn't known him well enough you might have thought of his stare as cold and unfeeling, and his voice as stern; but you could see how worry swirled inside the beautiful hues and underneath his words. You had noticed before how the colour of his eyes seemed to differ ever so slightly depending on the light and his emotions.

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice was soft, yet it didn't waver.

“Tell me what upsets you.”

You kept your lips shut for a moment, afraid that your lungs would speak the truth without your consent; then, you parted them, but no excuses would come. He sighed, trying to hide the hurt in his glance by averting it to the scenery outside the window. 

“Then at least can you tell me whether it is of my doing? I assure you it wasn't my intention to put distance between us again-”

“No- it's not you, Loki; it's not. I fully understand why you can't be around more often, and it's not like friends constantly need to be together.” You send him a smile, hoping it didn't seem empty. “I want to give you privacy, remember? I'm just as responsible for the distance.” 

“Is there nothing more?” 

“Nothing of your doing. Sure, I miss home, and I feel a bit out of place here, but it will pass. All will pass, and I'll be fine.” You felt tears rise, but you pushed them back and snickered softly instead. “The palace is like a maze. It took me at least an hour or two to find the library, and I didn't even find it on my own; I wonder how long it will take me to find the entrance to the gardens.” 

“Would you like me to show you?” 

You frowned lightly. “Isn't the princess waiting for you?” 

“She had other business to attend to. I'm all yours.” 

The butterflies came back to life inside of your belly, and against all rational thinking in you nodded before sending him a smile that already felt more genuine. “Then I'd like to take your offer.” 

His lips curled up slightly in a playful one as well, though his eyes stayed soft. “The first one or the second?” 

You rolled your eyes, glad the atmosphere turned lighter. “You know which one.” 

“I'll escort you to my chambers, then-” 

You copied his grin. “Take me to the gardens, you idiot.” 

 

You walked next to him, focusing on the light breeze and the smell of different flowers. Trees lining the path offered shade against the midday sun and birds whose songs were unknown to you flew over or watched you cautiously from the heads of the marble statues that stood amongst the greenery. The white towers were almost too bright to look at yet somehow the light took away some of the looming oppressiveness, and everything seemed a little bit less important – even if it was just for a moment. 

But you would never be able to truly enjoy it. 

Not as long as you could feel the presence of the man walking next to you even if you had your eyes averted, not as long as you could hear his slow, casual stride on the tiles, adjusting his pace to match yours; and not as long as you could feel your love for him fight against the pain the thought of his future wife brought you. 

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, studied the line of his jaw, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the distant look in his eyes, the shape of his lips. You turned your focus back to the flowers, fighting the tears once again. You had forgotten to bring your book, or even your bag, and crying because of the beauty of flowers wasn't exactly convincing. Maybe conversation could distract you. 

“Since when do you wear a cape, anyway?” 

He stopped walking and turned his head, a smirk appearing on his face before he theatrically pushed his cape back and bowed. “Do you like it?” 

“I must admit it looks very regal, but I'll have to get used to it first before I can give you my verdict.” You grinned, looking him over with a hand on your hip. 

A chuckle escaped his lips. “If this is already something you need to get used to, wait until you see this.” A sheen of magic spread over him -

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you bent over a bit. “Are you serious?” 

His smirk widened. “Oh, I'm very serious.” 

Another fit of laughter. You moved a finger over your watery eyes before massaging your hurting cheeks. “Is this true Asgardian fashion?” 

“What? You don't like my helmet?”

“Oh I love it, I truly do.” The corners of your lips trembled as you tried to get the massive grin off your face and make your expression serious again. 

“Perhaps it looks better on you.” 

And before you knew it he took off his helmet, handsomely shook his head to free his dark locks, and handed the horned artifact to you. Your eyes widened a bit and you hesitated, but his smile reassured you that it was fine. 

The lightness surprised you. You weighed it a bit, turned it for examination, and rubbed your thumb over the smooth, golden surface. Then, with a giddy feeling in your heart and a giggle escaping your lungs, you lifted it and placed it over your head, only responding to Loki's loud laugh with a smirk. You had to keep your hands on either side as it was slightly too big, and you feared it might slide off and fall if you didn't keep holding on, but you noticed how it wasn't uncomfortable or painfully hard like you had expected it to be. 

You glanced back at Loki, only to see that delicate emotion in his eyes and a soft, almost tender smile on his lips that made your stomach twist oh so deliciously and your heart glow bright. Luckily his chuckle brought you back to reality before your body could act on instinct.

“I was right; it does look good on you.” 

A blush spread on your face. “I feel very powerful; like I could bring an entire army of soldiers to their knees simply by glaring at them. I understand now why anyone would like wearing this – besides looking great, of course.” You let out a short laugh, before taking it off and handing it back. “It would almost make me start wishing I had armour and a cape.” 

He made the helmet disappear again. “It could be arranged, if you wish?” 

You were the one to chuckle this time. “Though it is very tempting, I wouldn't want you or anyone else to spend coin on something so silly – I don't even need it, so it would be a waste of money.” 

“No coin spent on you is wasted, my lady.” 

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your mouth. “Silvertongue.” 

 

The two of you continued walking for a bit, and you felt much more at ease. Maybe... Maybe you could be happy with simply being his friend. He knew how to make you smile, how to make you laugh; and in return you got to hear him laugh every now and then. However just as these thoughts passed through your head, you heard a familiar voice calling out. 

“Loki! Where have you been?” 

You turned around; and when your gaze met hers, Ylva immediately froze. Her eyes shot from her fiancé to you and back. You could see the rage flare up yet she managed to keep a smile on her face and her pace elegant as she walked over, immediately clinging to Loki's arm and sending him a flirty glance through her white lashes. 

“I got worried when I couldn't find you, I've been searching all morning!” 

You shot Loki a look but he simply answered it with a smirk, before dropping it and shifting his attention to the parasite hanging onto him. “I went for a walk, as you can see.” 

“With her?” She shot you another look, glancing you up and down, and you suddenly felt very aware of the imperfections of your body. 

“Yes, with her. Does that bother you?” 

You felt your heart skip a beat. Was he standing up for you? 

“Of course not, sugar, as long as she doesn't get all kinds of things in her head.” 

The urge to throw up washed over you like a tidal wave, but you were able to keep your expression neutral. “I promise you I won't, your highness.” 

“Good. Now come, sweetie, there is still lots of things I want to do today.” 

The look she gave you was dark and her words insinuated things you didn't even want to think about. Loki resisted her slight pulling, however, and turned his attention back to you. 

“Will you be able to find your way back?” 

You nodded. “I think I will.” 

He gave you a last smile, before nearly being dragged away through the gardens and into the white palace, where they disappeared out of sight. 

 

By Yggdrasil, you hated her. You hated her with every fibre of your being. You hated her beauty, you hated her voice, her words, her glares, her elegant walking and her high status. You almost wanted to bare your teeth at her, growl, sink your nails in her skin and tear her apart; but seeing as that simply wasn't a very socially accepted thing to do there was nothing left for you but to leave her be. To accept her animosity and ignore it. 

So you continued on your way through the garden and scanned it well, and even when you had the information you needed to carry out your plan tonight you stayed a little while longer, watching out over the city lower down the mountain, until the evening grew near and it was time to join the others for dinner. Loki would be there. Ylva would be there. The prince whose name you didn't even know yet would be there, too. But maybe, now that all the others would join as well, you would be able to disappear into the background a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating the confession tally, so if you want to change your vote or if you have another idea, feel free to leave a comment! New theories about the stranger are more than welcome as well, of course, and I will put both the tally and the list of theories in the notes of the next chapter ;D
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	33. XXXIII

There was still some time left before dinner would start and in no way did you want to spend more time with those people than necessary, so you found your way back to your room and checked if everything was still there. You trusted the servants not to take anything but it was better to be safe than sorry; but luckily, and, as expected, everything was still in your bag. When you entered the bathroom you noticed all your clothes were still there as well; fully dried and smelling like lavender. 

You glanced at the newly filled basin. The water was still a bit warm, but it was better to take a bath after the meal – you needed a moment to relax after such mental torture, after all – and so instead you stepped onto the edge to get your clothes from the high cabinets you had hung them over. You could only imagine the expression of the servant who had come to fill up the bath. What did the royal family do with their laundry, anyway? Did servants clean their clothes and hang it out to dry? It was the most logical explanation, but it was still such a strange concept to you that people left such minor tasks to others. 

All clothes had been gathered and, with some difficulty balancing, folded into a pile that you held in your arms. As you stepped down you accidentally knocked over one of the vials and you quickly reached out, but you had been too slow – a loud pang and the ringing of shards against the marble floor marked the moment of its landing, its contents splashing everywhere. 

The breaking of such a lovely and expensive-looking bottle would have bothered you more, if it hadn't been for the extreme burning of your ankle. 

You cried out, your hand shooting towards your skin, but you managed to refrain from touching it and bent further down to hastily inspect it instead: it had turned bright red, blisters already forming, and you knew it would go deep if you didn't start healing it soon. You quickly set your magic to work and moved away from the puddle on the floor as the scent of burned flesh filled your lungs and made your stomach twist dangerously. Every step hurt but your ankle slowly mended, the blisters flaking off as new skin formed underneath, and only when you were seated on the edge of the bed, tears in your eyes and a painful frown on your face, were you able to breathe normally again. Your heartbeat calmed down a bit as the last burning faded and the redness left your skin. 

It took a bit longer for the initial shock to fade, however. Your mind didn't process it fully yet and it was so absurd, so unexpected that you needed a moment to regain the ability to think clearly again. Yet, when the haze was finally gone, you realised how bad this could have been: if you had thrown the acid in the bathwater while already soaking in it, like you had done with the lavender oil, it would have diffused into your skin and damaged the underlying structures - you wouldn't have had enough energy to heal everything fast enough, and soon you would have started coughing up the red liquid from your veins or your heart would have stopped beating. The water would have turned dark with blood and flesh and every second would have been excruciating as your body slowly burned away. 

A shiver ran down your spine in horror. It was obvious who had done this. 

Ylva wanted you dead; and she didn't just want you to die, no, she wanted you to _suffer_. It shouldn't surprise you as much as it did. It was a good thing you had broken the vial and figured out her plan before it had succeeded, but it was terrifying all the same: how many traps were still hidden in your room? What was next? And when? It was enough doubt to make a grown man anxious, maybe even paranoid. 

At least it confirmed your suspicions that the princess was not too intelligent. A dagger to the heart, when you were asleep, that would be much more effective in killing you as you wouldn't even get the chance to heal yourself- oh, but she didn't know about your magic yet of course! You could use that to your advantage, as well as the clear flaws in her train of thought. She probably hadn't even thought about the fact that everyone would get suspicious if you suddenly died here, or if you simply disappeared. Loki, Thor, and the others knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't leave without mentioning it or without leaving a note, and suicide wouldn't be believable either as they knew you still had a home to return to – not to mention that her secret wouldn't stay silent very long: she would need at least a guard or a servant to help her, and you already knew how fast word travelled around here. 

You sighed, your head beginning to pound. A princess had just attempted to assassinate you and yet here you were, strategically thinking it through, as if it was just another day in the life of a herbalist. You quieted that part of your thoughts for a moment, letting another question rise. 

Would Loki mourn your death? Would he cry? 

Somehow it was soothing to think he would, even though it would break your heart. And, if you died now, he would probably blame himself for not being able to protect you, even if it was not his fault. And it wouldn't be. He had offered his protection so often, and you had still taken your distance to allow him and Ylva to move forward. 

But you weren't going to let her win. 

You stood up, tested if your ankle could carry your weight again, then walked over to the table and grabbed your dagger from your bag. As your shoes were low slippers there was no way you could hide it there, and the dress didn't have any pockets, but there was one place left where you could put it: with a bit of wriggling you managed to slide the thin, black scabbard between the lacing on your back, and one glance in the mirror told you that it wasn't too obvious. You moved around a bit. It didn't fall out. Next, you tried grabbing your dagger and pulling it out a few times, satisfied to note how you could do it relatively quickly. You practiced a few more times, so that your fingers needed almost no time to search, before a knock on your door startled you. 

You quickly slid the knife back in it's sheath, careful not to cut the black ribbons. “Come in!” 

The door opened and a familiar face appeared. “I've come to get you for dinner, miss.” 

“Thank you, Audhild. Oh, and could you do me a favor?” 

“Of course miss, what is it?” 

“Could you bring me old rags that you no longer need? I made a bit of a mess in the bathroom with one of my potions, and I will need to clean it myself. The stuff is rather strong, and one touch could give a horrible allergic reaction to the wrong person.” 

She nodded. “I will tell everyone to keep out and I will bring you the rags when we meet you tonight.” 

You hated how lying came so easily to you. 

 

You followed her through the palace. The dagger stayed put, and once you had reached the guarded doors of the dining hall you could only vaguely feel it, like one lost the awareness of one's clothes. You took another moment to slow your breathing. It was key that you kept everything hidden; your magic, your knowledge of her attempt to kill you, your dagger – everything. If you showed her you had seen through her plans, there was no way of knowing what she would do. She might send a whole party of men to kill you, in a desperate attempt to silence you before you told Loki and ruined her hopes of marrying him. Then a thought rose: 

You could tell Loki when you stepped through those doors.

But what if he would still be forced to marry her? What if it didn't matter what he wanted? You had heard of arranged marriages before, and how both parties often didn't have a say in the matter. He would have to live with the woman who had tried to kill his friend, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. No, you didn't want to burden him with something like that. You just needed to keep dodging her attacks, if more were to come, and when it truly begins to get out of hand, that is when you would confront her with it – one on one, privately. For now, you just needed to stay calm and play your cards right.

You took another deep breath, gave a curt nod, and the guard opened the door. 

With your chin held a tad higher than usual you confidently strode through the dining room. It was larger than the one in which communal breakfasts were held; the table in the centre was longer, with more seats on either side, and the seating arrangement differed as well. The King and Queen now both sat on one side of the table, their children in the chairs closest, with next to them the guests of honour – in this case meaning Thor, Loki, and you. The further down the table, the lower the status. 

You ignored Ylva's glare, ignored the foreign prince's attempt to meet your eyes, and sat down in the empty seat between Loki and Rangvaldr. You felt safe. Not because you knew that both men at your sides would fight to protect your life, one with his sword the other with his magic, but also because of the knowledge you felt burning in the back of your head.  
You could look the princess in her eyes and see the conspiracy-like hope of you being found dead tomorrow, and you could smile, knowing that, the morning after, she would be shocked to find you alive and well, walking through the palace without a single scratch. She would begin to doubt her plan. Had you found out? Hadn't you taken a bath yet? Or had you simply not used the right vial? But she wouldn't know for sure. It would make her anxious, maybe even terrified as she didn't know you well enough to know how you would respond; whether you would tell anyone or plot revenge in silence. Her thoughts would become saturated with fear and therefore, with some luck, her plans would grow more and more irrational. 

Of course there was still the possibility of her sending an entire group of soldiers; but, depending on how efficiently they worked together and whether they surprised you or not, your chances of surviving were rather large – if you were willing to give your secrets away. You didn't want to kill anyone, but you wouldn't allow someone to simply have you slaughtered. Yet... Were you prepared to face the bloody consequences of such a conviction? Could you kill a person to protect your own life, especially when you knew they all acted on orders? 

Plates filled with food being placed on the table disturbed you from your spiraling thoughts, and you gratefully took the moment of distraction to wipe all of them from your mind. Even though going over all possible scenarios was certainly a good way to prepare yourself, there was no use thinking about it right now. Even Ylva wasn't stupid enough to poison your mead with so many witnesses around. 

One of the fruits got your attention. Its peel seemed to shimmer lightly, and when you picked it up the colour seemed to grow a slightly more saturated pink. Fascinated, you peeled it, took off the thin membrane, and cautiously took a bite. A putrid taste filled your mouth and you gagged, quickly putting your hand over your mouth before anything actually came out, and shot the thing a look of betrayal mixed with utter disgust. Loki snickered, gently taking the half-consumed wedge of pinkish flesh from your hand and putting it on the plate with the rest of the waste. 

“You're eating it wrong.” Instead, he picked up a bit of the peel. “Lay it on your tongue.” 

You took it from him and hesitantly did as you were instructed, waiting for the gag-inducing taste to return – but you were pleasantly surprised. It melted, leaving behind a slight tingle and a soft sweetness that reminded you more of the fresh air in the morning than of any type of food you had ever tasted before. You sent him a surprised smile. 

“This is amazing - what is it called?” 

He smiled back, but his eyes scanned yours as if searching for something. “It's a dirunn. They say it tastes sweet to those in pain, and salty to those who are enjoying themselves.” 

Your shoulders tensed a bit, but you covered it up by keeping your smile in place. “Good thing I like salty things, then.” 

You turned back to your plate, ignoring his studying gaze, and relief washed over you when Ylva quickly pulled him into a conversation again. If he were to ask about the pain later, you could just name the same lies as the ones you had told him before he had shown you the way to the gardens.  
The fresh memory of him in his helmet, of him handing it to you, and of his laugh when you had put it on your own head – it was the soft kind of torture. He was sitting so close, yet he felt so far away. 

And he had been right; the peel melting on your tongue filled your mouth with a taste even sweeter than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ylva has lost all innocence now :0
> 
> Here are the theories and votes, as promised! If you want to change your vote or add another theory, feel free to leave a comment below! Let's see if you guys can predict where this story is going ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Who is the stranger?  
> -A guy from Blacktree  
> -From healer's biological family  
> -The 'dragon' mentioned in the first couple of chapters  
> -The prince of Yllgard → debunked  
> -The dude that was an asshat to Brant's sister  
> -Brant's dad  
> -Ylva in shapeshifter form
> 
>  
> 
> Who confesses first?  
> Healer: III  
> Loki: IIII  
> Brant/Kari/other characters: III  
> Idc I just want them to be happy: IIII 
> 
> As some of you might know I have been commissioned to write a 'what if' scenario that isn't canon in this fic but has the same characters. It can be found amongst my other works on my page. I have been commissioned again, and the next chapter will include smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) So for y'all who are thirsty for some Loki/healer action, it won't be long! (in the non-canon universe, anyway muhahaha >:D ) I would recommend to refrain from reading that smut until the canon characters have gotten it on, but of course I won't be able to stop you. 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	34. XXXIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT GUYS HAVE YOU SEEN THE THOR: RAGNAROK TRAILER YET???  
> HOLY FUCK I AM _SO_ HYPED!!!
> 
> Loki looks absolutely gorgeous and I can't wait to hear all his sassy remarks and witty replies in that beautiful voice of his, gosh :'}  
> Shiiiiiit I can't wait for that film to come out. I need more Loki!!
> 
> Here's a longer chapter for all my lovely readers ♡  
> Because woah guys, more than 6000 views, 500+ kudos, and over 600 comments! I love reading them, your enthusiasm and theories always manage to make me smile and they motivate me so incredibly much (●´ω｀●) I don't say it often enough but I truly appreciate every single one of you and your support really makes my days a whole lot brighter. Thank you!! ♡

You had managed to sit through dinner without too much trouble. The foreign prince had tried to start a conversation with you multiple times during the evening, but you had managed to masterly cut those attempts off with polite but shallow responses and you had even figured out his name, Erlend, by accident, as someone from the other end of the table had called out to him - and so you no longer risked having to ask him one day. 

Loki had seemed like he had wanted to talk to you when the meal ended, but you had used the happy (and, for some, alcohol-related) commotion to sneak away and return to your chambers. There, you sat down on the bed to wait for Audhild and the others. 

Pride and satisfaction glowed within you at the realisation that the gentle smile on your lips had not failed once, not even when you had heard about the ball that was to take place in two days time. Another one was the last thing you needed, especially as it gave prince Erlend the chance to ask you for a dance again, but luckily the youngest princess had noticed your slightly distressed glance and had offered to teach you how to dance after you had taught her sister about biology. 

It was strange, but you actually felt a little bit excited about it. To learn how to dance – properly, like royalty – and from a princess no less; who would have thought that opportunity to be given to you? And what would your parents think when they heard your stories? A small smile spread on your lips. Their faces came to mind, disbelief in their eyes as they listened to your adventures, and it was easy to imagine what they would say. How they were happy for you, though also glad that you were back, and how they wanted to hear every single detail you could think of, before sharing their own tales you had heard many times before. 

Your heart grew warm with fondness. Medhea would no doubt ask for permission to read your field notes after already having grabbed the books from your bag, and Illasias would read along as he peered over her shoulder. They were so predictable, and it was one of the many things you loved about them. A soft pang shot through your chest, causing you to smile bleakly: maybe your lie had finally become truth. 

You missed them. You missed home. 

Slowly, your thoughts grew uncertain. Without a doubt they would ask you about the princes again and joke about how you should have fallen for one, married him, and how you should already be living in luxury; and of course the first who would come to their minds was prince Thor – but would you be able to tell them how their prediction had been partly right? How you had fallen for a prince – not the golden-haired one, but his brother? After overcoming the confusion at your choice they would certainly react with cheerful celebration. Would you be able to hold back the tears? To smile? To tell them how that same man you had fallen in love with had married a beautiful princess only weeks later? Would you be the same person as you were now? Would the pain have consumed you, or would you already have been able to move on? 

You let out a sigh and distracted your hands by fidgeting with a string of one of the pouches. The pouches Loki had given you. Loki. Prince Loki. Your prince. Your Loki. 

If only that were true. 

Drops falling down on the dark green fabric created even darker spots, but you quickly found your composure again and almost violently wiped your cheeks dry. Now was not the time. You still had things to take care of before you could indulge in self-pity. 

You took most things out of your bag save for the box with your medicine, herbs, and ointments, and placed the pouches neatly within. Not much later a knock sounded on the door, and, after quickly checking your face in the mirror, you opened the door. 

“Good evening, miss. I brought Selby and Vern to help us; they are both very quick and know the garden by heart.” 

You smiled at the two of them. Selby, a woman who seemed at least a few years older than you, had determination in her eyes that fired up your own; and Vern, a man around the same age as her, seemed just as driven. Yes, this was good. 

“Great! Let's move quickly, yet try to stay silent and unnoticed. I have no idea whether my plan would be appreciated by the royal family, but I don't think they will take kindly to us taking matters into our own hands. If anything happens, like guards asking us what we're doing, I will tell them you were showing me around the palace – and if they don't believe me, or if we meet princess Ylva, I will take full blame.” 

 

The garden was found within minutes. Next was the goal to find a spot no one could see, not from the ground and not from the windows, and to your surprise the older servants only needed a moment of thinking and discussing before they guided you to a place that met all requirements. It was a raised bed of flowers, used to fill up the unused space between two tower walls protruding from the main one.

“Perfect. We will need to replant these roses in another place first before we can get to work. Audhild, Selby, could you start digging holes around those other roses? Leave a small mount of soil in the centre to support the bush and beware the thorns. Vern, could you help me dig out these ones? We need to get the entire ball of roots out, with as much soil as possible.” 

You glanced up at the sky. It was probably going to rain soon, but that would be fine – great, even, as it made sure the transplanted roses would stay alive. It would only be suspicious if they suddenly started dying, and eventually someone would notice.  
Everyone got to work. You paid no attention to how the dirt gathered underneath your nails, how the thorns pricked through your skin and sent little droplets of blood to run down your fingers – you worked swiftly, focused on your task. The only thing that came to mind was that you had forgotten to change into an outfit of your own – you would have to wash your dress tonight. 

Within half an hour all bushes had been placed elsewhere, and an empty patch of soil was left. 

Over the next hour the four of you planted the different seeds in organised rows while you told them how to grow every specific vegetable or herb, from seed to fully grown product, how to reap the new seeds and how and when to plant them again. They listened intently, and when you were done you let them repeat the things you had told so the information would stick. 

“Take others here and tell them the same, teach them how to keep this going. This is only a start, but in time you will gather more seeds than you can plant again here - keep them. Find another place like this and expand, but always keep some seeds in storage for when a harvest goes wrong.” 

“And don't tell anyone else, or it might be the end of your little project altogether.”

The servant's eyes grew wide in fear but you turned around quite unimpressed, having felt his magic a moment before he spoke. 

“Good evening, my prince. Is something the matter? Do you need my assistance?” 

Loki grinned as you scanned him for wounds or other troubles, and leaned back a bit in a casual stance. “Not at all. Can I not visit my dearest friend without having ulterior motives? Such distrust.” He shook his head in feigned disappointment. 

You grinned back. “Though I do love your visits so, I hope no one has seen you or comes looking for you. It might just ruin my whole plan.” Your gaze turned genuinely grateful. “Thank you, by the way, for the seeds.” 

“No need to thank me.” 

You turned back to the other three, who regarded the prince with obvious fear, and smiled reassuringly. “I've searched the garden this afternoon, and I will show you where you can find some other useful things.” Then, you glanced back at the fair-skinned prince. “Will you join us?” 

He nodded, and so you led the four of them through the garden. Every now and then you pointed out a bush, plant, or flower, mentioning how it could be used, and occasionally stopped to gather berries or dig up edible roots. Slowly the rucksack they had brought filled up with food and herbs. The three servants took in every sentence you gave them, while Loki just silently watched you with a soft expression on his face, yet you minded neither – quite the opposite. It was rather fun to share your knowledge and know it would come to good use. 

The moon stood bright in the sky when you had finished traversing the entire garden, and Audhild, Selby, and Vern were worn to the point they had trouble lifting their feet high enough for every next step. Loki seemed no less energetic. Had Ylva kept away his nightmares last night? Had he been able to sleep well? You waved as the servants returned to their quarters, but glanced at the man at your side from the corner of your eye. He met your gaze, smiling lightly. 

“Shall we go for another round through the gardens, my lady?” 

“It might start raining soon, my prince.” 

“Then you may have my helmet to keep you dry.” 

You tried to keep the corners of your lips down, but to no avail. “How could I pass up on such an opportunity?” 

He offered you his arm, and, as if by habit, you took it without thinking twice. Leisurely he guided you over the marble pathways again, his pace matching yours, his gaze content. Sometimes you stopped to examine and smell a night-blooming flower you hadn't seen before, and he would wait. It was peaceful. 

The night on the rooftop came to mind, and you glanced up to the sky as you once more halted your walking. First, the light of the moon outshone the stars; then, the stars seemed to brighten, and finally they dimmed again as your eyes got used to the dark and the colours of the universe showed themselves. Loki followed your gaze. 

You didn't know how long you stood there, simply taking in the view and feeling the breeze cool down as time passed by. Your mind was quiet for a while. Overwhelmed, maybe. You barely noticed how a shiver gave you goosebumps, until the princes' arm moved from yours and you lowered your gaze back to him – but before you even had the chance to process what was happening he had already laid his cape around your shoulders. 

“We can't have our healer get ill now, can we?” His expression was soft, and your heart tingled. 

“It would be rather ironic, wouldn't it?” 

He chuckled, and with a smile you wrapped the green fabric closer around you. It smelled like him, and it was more intoxicating than any ale or any poison. You met his gaze again. 

“Won't you be cold?” 

Another chuckle, before slowly his skin started to turn blue. Decorative lines ran down his forehead, cheekbones, chin; his eyes red like fresh blood, and he was beautiful. You had never seen him fully Jotun like this before, only his hand on that day he demonstrated. Was he taller? 

“Does this form frighten you?” 

You saw the doubt amongst the ruby. “Of course not, Loki. It is still you – maybe even more you than the form you usually wear. Neither bothers me.” 

The corners of his lips pulled upwards ever so slightly, his relief visible, and as his form returned to normal the indescribably delicate emotion entered his gaze. “How could I have expected anything else? Your heart is too soft, my lady. Helping a depressed woman, helping malnourished servants, helping a princess with her sprained ankle-” 

You shot him a surprised glance and he smirked. 

“Did you think I wouldn't notice how her step changed after she spoke with you?” He chuckled softly, more to himself than to you. “So righteous. You might even convince Odin of his wrongdoings and show him his ruling needs to change, if you take my side.” 

“I will not be taking anyone's side, my prince. And even if I should engage in politics, I will be on the side of the people.” 

His smile only grew, the stars making it seem like his eyes were sparkling. 

“You would make a fine queen, my lady.” 

Your stomach twisted and your heart missed a beat. Oh how you wished for him to kneel for you, to ask for your hand in marriage, to make you his queen. You wouldn't hesitate in your answer – he already had all of you in the palm of his hand, anyway; even though he didn't know it. But he couldn't. He was to marry Ylva. 

And as if the realm felt your pain the sky began to cry, harder, even harder, until the water poured down mercilessly and the sound of it became deafening; but you were grateful. Grateful it gave the two of you an excuse to laugh and run back to seek cover inside the palace, and grateful you could hide your tears amongst the water. 

 

You held Loki's cape tight around your shoulders, yet it didn't truly serve any purpose as it was just as soaked as the rest of you. Your hair was plastered to your face, your whole body was shivering, and a puddle had already formed on the white floor underneath you – and Loki was, apart from the shivering, not much better off: his black hair clung to his face and his armour was dripping waterfalls. The two of you must have been a strange sight to see. 

You rolled the green fabric and wrung it out over the ocean at your feet to distract yourself, both from the fresh wound in your heart and the fact that, despite the water, he still looked so unbearably handsome that you feared you might kiss him if his smile widened even further. Even his eyes lit up with mirth simply because the two of you were silly enough to get caught in a spring storm. 

With an apologetic grin you handed him his cape. “I warned you for the water.” 

But, instead of taking it, his gaze turned tender. “Keep it. It's yours.” 

Your eyes widened. “But-” 

“I have many others. And didn't you mention you wanted one of your own?” With a simple movement of his hand a cape returned to his outfit – a different one than the one in your hands, yet of the same fabric and colour. 

You grinned and wrapped it around your shoulders again, before inhaling deeply, buffing up your chest, and raising your chin. “I do feel rather powerful; all that's left for me to feel invincible is a golden helmet with horns.” Your lungs deflated with a short laugh. “Thank you, my prince. I will take good care of it.” 

He laughed too. “Let's get you back to your chambers, shall we?” 

And so the two of you walked back through the empty hallways, leaving a trail of rainwater in your wake. After a last exchanging of smiles and good-nights you closed the door behind you, rested your back against it, and you sighed. How was it possible for one man to both break your heart and make it glow in only a span of mere minutes? You lay your hands on your chest. Foolish prince. Foolish you. 

The rags laying neatly folded at the foot end of your bed caught your attention, and reminded you of a last task to fulfill before you closed your eyes for the night. Of one of them you bound the ends together in the back of your neck to create a makeshift mask, protecting your mouth and nose from inhaling the possible vapors; the others you carried to the bathroom and lay on the puddle to soak it up – careful not to touch the liquid yourself. When all the acid had been absorbed you set the rags on fire with your magic, hurried out of the bathroom, left the door slightly ajar, and kept the cloth tightly over your mouth as you opened the windows on either side of the bed and left your chambers altogether. 

Then, you waited, and waited, until it was safe to go back in. All that was left were the shards and a bit of ash. By the time not a single thing was left that hinted at the assassination attempt your weary body was begging for some sleep.

When you finally crawled underneath the sheets it didn't take long for you to pass out. 

 

 

 

 

_“Come with me.”_

_“I have to go back home, to Blacktree-”_

_“You won't come, as long as you have a home to return to?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Very well.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaa healer's got her own cape! I'm so jealous ;-; 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	35. XXXV

“Miss, won't you be coming for breakfast?” 

You groaned, still half asleep. “Hng?”

“Breakfast, miss. It starts in fifteen minutes.” 

Your eyes flew open and you shot up in bed. When you hurried out from underneath the covers you noticed how you had forgotten to take off the dress last night and how it smelled of a mix of sweat and rainwater, and when you passed by the mirror on your way to the door you saw how your hair was no less a disaster. With a defeated sigh you opened up. 

“Good morning, Audhild. I accidentally slept in. Help me decide please: should I go eat with the royal family in this dress I forgot to wash or shouldn't I go at all? It seems to me that both options would be equally rude.” 

She snickered. “Worry not, miss; another dress has been sent for you.” She held up a neatly folded garment. 

With a surprised expression you took it from her. Had Ylva had enough of you wearing Loki's colour? You moved your hand over the black fabric. It was of even finer material than the dress you were wearing. You moved to the mirror, unfolded the garment, and held it up in front of you. It was your size, something the princess could never know unless she had stolen one of your other outfits – and after a quick check you concluded that nothing had been taken. 

“Who has sent it?” 

“Can't you tell, miss?” She smiled, her gaze switching from your eyes to the dress and back. 

At first you had no clue as to what she meant. But then, as you looked closer, turning the dress a bit, you noticed how green undertones became visible through the black when it caught the right light. Loki. 

“Ylva is going to hate me for wearing this but I don't really have another option, do I?” 

“You can always go naked?” 

You copied her grin. “Come help me get this on.”

 

When you stepped inside the breakfast hall, all eyes were aimed at you. Not only were you last to arrive, but your dress shimmered black and green with every step you took; catching their attention immediately. You could see the surprise on everyone's faces. Well, everyone but Ylva, who looked as if she could explode with anger any second, and Loki, who looked almost proud of himself with that mischievous expression on his face. You shot him a glare, but his smirk only grew. 

As there was only one seat left you had no other option than to sit down next to the fair-skinned prince. Within seconds the food arrived, plates quickly filling up the table, and the meal could begin. Only when the volume rose did you turn to the man beside you. 

“Couldn't you have given me a dress of a different colour? Or do you want the princess to murder me during breakfast?” 

He grinned. “What can I say? You look good in my colours. Don't you like the dress?” 

A sigh escaped your lips. “Of course I like it, you know very well that it is astonishingly beautiful. I am just saying that it truly wasn't necessary to have it made for me.” 

“I figured your other dress would smell like dirt and rain after last night. But, if you feel more comfortable wearing that one in front of seven members from a royal family, be my guest.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Seven? There's only five-” 

“Am I not your prince, my lady?” 

You smirked. “Ah yes, of course. It's just that your un-prince-like actions make me forget you're anything special sometimes.”

He laughed, causing most faces to look your way, then lowered his voice. “Liar.” 

You pursed your lips together to keep your grin from widening and turned back to the food instead. 

 

It would most likely be sooner than later before the king and queen declared the meal to be over, so you just had to hang in a while longer – but you were getting good at this. Ylva's hateful glares no longer sent shivers down your spine and, using Kari for pleasant conversation, you easily managed to keep Erlend at bay. Yet, when the end finally approached, you felt a foot creep up your leg – and you froze in your spot. You glanced at princess Ylva in front of you. She had her eyes, dark with sensual thoughts, fixed on the raven-haired man sitting next to you; her foot sliding higher, and the need to vomit came back. You quickly cleared your throat. Cleared it once more, more urgently as the princess didn't respond, and when her foot still kept rubbing up your shin you decided to address her directly – you had warned her twice, after all. 

“Princess Ylva, I hope you are aware of the fact that you are rubbing your foot up the wrong leg.” 

Her eyes widened and she immediately retracted her leg, her face growing a bright red that looked almost sickly on her pure white skin. At hearing the others around her snicker her eyes filled with fire, which, as expected, she aimed at you. But she kept quiet. Slowly, she sat back, the rage staying but her face becoming terrifyingly calm, and, while she kept your gaze, an evil smile started to softly pull on the corners of her lips. You tried not to show the dread settling within you, but you knew she wasn't going to let you get away with this. And you had to spend an entire morning with her. 

Then you realised you had forgotten your dagger. 

You needed to be cautious – more cautious than you already were. You knew you could easily protect yourself if she attacked you, both with or without weapon, but if you turned your back and let your guard down there was a great chance she might shove a knife between your ribs and pierce your heart before you had even had a chance to stop her. A wry grin tried to form on your face. If she even knew where the heart was situated, with her 'knowledge' of biology – yet it might be better not to remind her of it during the lesson. 

Dinner ended, and both Kari, Thor, and Loki sent you mischievous grins that spoke both of their amusement and respect before they left the hall. Erlend's eyes lingered, too, but were occupied with a far too sensual glance for you to even acknowledge his existence. The king and queen left without as much as a sigh in your direction. 

You were alone with Ylva. 

You cleared your throat to break the silence. “Where do you want to study? I think the library will be best for our focus-” 

“You better give up on him, you know.” Her voice had lost its melodious kindness and venom had taken its place – it was easy to hear how she thought about you; and yet she still saw you as a threat. You kept your face neutral as you responded. 

“I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about, your highness.” 

She didn't buy your feigned ignorance. “I've already made him mine. He's a great lover, that prince of yours.” 

You tried to retain your air of disinterest, but her words stung more than they should. “I can imagine he must be very attentive when it comes to courting a princess.” 

“I'm not simply talking about courting; but then again, I wouldn't expect someone like you to know.” Her voice had taken on an even more degrading tone. 

Your irritation began to buzz in the back of your head but you managed to keep your smile on your face and your voice light, even though you wanted to bare your teeth and growl. 

“Someone like me? I must admit that I do not know what that encompasses-” 

“Shall I make it simple for you, then?” She abruptly stood, loudly shoving back her chair in the process. “It is obvious no man has ever loved you like they have loved me – not mentally nor physically.” She slowly circled round the table and you stood as well, not once turning your back to her. “Sober men would never take you – especially not Loki. But me, oh,” she smirked devilishly, “he has taken every inch of my body, and he will take me again and again and again; probably tonight, too; maybe even before dinner. Soon I will marry him, and one day I will bear his children.” She stalked even closer, like a predator backing their prey into a corner. “Does that anger you, commoner?” She spat the word like it was an insult. “I hope it does. I hope it breaks your tiny little heart into tiny little pieces.” 

She stood in front of you now, but you kept your expression completely neutral. “It does not anger me at all, your highness. Prince Loki has the right to love whomever he wants and I do not care for his affections, neither mentally nor physically. I am merely his friend, as I have stated before, and I only wish for him to be happy. If he manages to find that happiness with you-” you allowed yourself one derogatory smirk, “then you have my blessing.” The revenge of seeing your subtle insult sink in was sweet. You continued on a casual tone: “Anyway, as I was saying; the library might be best-” 

“I do not care for your dumb lesson you worthless quim,” she hissed, her fists trembling with rage. “Just stay away from him – or, even better, go back to the filth you came from.” And with that she stormed out of the room, disappearing behind the white-metal doors. 

As there was no royalty left in the breakfast hall the guards left, and you were alone. It took a moment before everything settled, and, as it did, tears began to stream down your cheeks; but you didn't move. You didn't make a sound. You simply felt, simply cried, simply cursed the universe and cursed Ylva in the confinements of your thoughts. But it didn't matter, did it? Loki loved her. Loki loved her and _fucked_ her- why would he fuck someone like her? You didn't understand- you didn't-

A soft cry escaped your lungs as mental images began to torture you; images of pale skin in the darkness, of fingers digging into shoulders as their laboured breaths filled the space around them and mixed with the sounds of pleasure seeping from their throats. You lay your hands over your mouth, smothering any pained noises before they could reach someone's ears. 

After a while, when your body had lost the ability to cry, you dried your itching face, and practiced your smile and casual voice for a bit. Then you returned to your chambers, where you wrapped yourself in Loki's cape and sought comfort in the embrace of the bedsheets. It was so wrong of you find solace in his smell. There was so much wrong with this- with you. Maybe it was best if you went home anyway. 

But first you would take Kari's offer to teach you how to dance. 

So when noon came around you forced yourself to get out and fix your hair, and you even convinced yourself to walk to the bathroom and sprinkle on some lavender oil – making sure it wasn't acid first, of course. A last glance in the mirror. Was it your imagination or were you beginning to look more like shit with every day you spent here? You shrugged it off with a sigh, pinched your cheeks to get back some of the healthy blush, and left the safety of your room to go find Kari. 

 

You met her in front of the breakfast hall, relieved to feel a genuine smile appear on your lips, and under enthusiastic conversation she led the two of you to the throne room - the same room where the last ball had been held. What relieved you even more was that neither the king nor the queen could be found on their thrones; and quite frankly you didn't care about their whereabouts as long as they weren't in your direct surroundings. Then you noticed the small group of musicians on the stage against the wall. 

“You even took care of the music!” 

She laughed. “Of course! How could I teach you how to dance without a rhythm to dance on?” She nodded in the direction of the stage, and soon music filled the room. 

The basics weren't too hard, yet it took some practice to remember all the right steps in the right order and to make your dancing seem more natural. Still, you stepped on her toes at least three times in the span of two hours; and at the fourth time you sighed before letting go of her shoulders. 

“I'm sorry, Kari. I think dancing just isn't something for me.” 

“Don't worry about it. It takes a lot of practice, and I'm usually the Follow instead of the Lead so that might play a part as well.” 

“How about I lead, then?” 

Both your faces shot towards the man leaning against the door frame, dark hair slicked back and blue-green eyes gleaming with amusement. Kari clapped her hands in delight, all the shyness you had seen on the first day long forgotten. 

“Yes, that would be great! I am sure you are much better at it than I am.” She waved him over and casually he strode towards the two of you in the middle of the room. 

Your feelings were all mixed up. As always you were happy to see him, and his smile made your heart tingle – yet Ylva's confession was still fresh inside your mind. It wasn't allowed for you to be attracted to him any longer. You shouldn't be thinking about how handsomely confident he came towards you, eyes locking onto yours, and you certainly shouldn't be feeling your stomach twist pleasurably at the intensity of his glance and the little smirk playing on his thin lips. 

He held up his hand, and you lay yours in it, trying not to smile at how tenderly his fingers wrapped around yours. Next, he took your other hand, placed it on his shoulder, then gingerly took hold of your waist. He was so close. You cast a glance at Kari, but her grin had only widened. 

“Great, let's get the music started again!” One movement of her hand and the instruments sounded out. 

Loki tightened his grip ever so slightly, causing you to look back at him. “Focus on my eyes. Feel the rhythm of the music in your chest, but give yourself over to me.” 

Butterflies erupted in your abdomen but you managed to give a nod, and, after a short chuckle, he began to move. Left. Left. Right. He pulled you a bit closer, leaning in to whisper near your ear. 

“You're thinking too much, my lady.” 

“I need to remember my steps-” 

“Don't worry about that; let me guide you through the dance. Hand me the control over your body.” 

His voice was so low, his lips so close to your neck, but you got out a soft 'okay' nonetheless. He leaned back a bit to catch your gaze once more. Don't think about the steps, let him take control. All you needed to do was to feel the music and to trust him. You trusted him. You trusted your life with him. 

Your grip on his shoulder lessened from anxious to gentle, and the tension left your muscles. It began to feel less restrained, less like training, and more like the organic flowing of movement. From the subtle twitches of his lean body and the minimal shifts in weight did you pick up his next move and adapted as if all you wanted to do was to stay close to him. And it was. All you wanted was for the dance to continue, for the moment to last, for his gaze to lock onto yours for eternity and for his hands to keep holding you until you were no longer sure where you ended and where he began. The two of you moved as one, and you were barely aware of it. He was all you could see, all you could feel. He, and the affection you felt blooming for him inside your chest. 

Then the last notes faded, and the dance came to an end.

You stood slightly dazed, still staring into his eyes, until reality seemed to hit you in the face and you quickly stepped away. 

“You truly are a good Lead, my prince. I feel more confident about my dancing already.” You sent him a warm smile, hoping your blush was minimal. 

Kari laughed mirthfully. “You looked so beautiful, with your dress shifting colours in the light - and not even once did you step on his toes!”

Loki chuckled, his smile tender as he moved his attention back to you. “Not that I would mind - my lady is always welcome to step on my toes.” 

Kari's grin widened and it looked as if her eyes were sparkling, so you quickly waved his flattery away. “How gallant. Don't expect me to heal them afterward, however. I have no desire to touch your sweaty feet, no matter how princely they might be.” 

He laughed, loudly and genuinely, and neither you nor Kari were able to keep yourself from sniggering with him. His laugh made your heart glow so bright you feared one would be able to see it through your chest. 

“We've danced the whole afternoon, how about we skip dinner and go picnic in the gardens?” 

Your eyes widened. “Wouldn't that be rude?” Not to mention that Ylva might actually come running at you with her sword or something, but you kept that possibility to yourself. 

Kari shrugged, a mischievous grin on her face. “Do you want to be polite all the time or do you want to enjoy yourself?” 

Her grin was contagious, and within seconds your worries had almost completely faded away. She was right. And so she dismissed the musicians, led the two of you through the doors, into the maze-like halls of the palace, and showed the way to the world outside. It was easy to see she belonged here. She strode with confidence and never even stopped to think about which turn to take, as if she could even find her destination – no matter where it may be – with a blindfold covering her eyes. And she probably could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might try to draw the second dress, but I'm not sure if my skills will allow me to. 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	36. XXXVI

The three of you picked out a spot underneath a large weeping willow, it's hanging branches swaying languidly around you and offering shade against the scorching sun above whilst also shielding you from prying eyes. Loki made an elegant movement with his hand and a blanket materialized, then came trays filled with food, and finally three beautiful glasses appeared; filled up with a red liquid you didn't quite recognise. Kari clapped in delight. 

“Another one with the gift of magic! I can't help but be jealous - is there no way you can teach me? Like one can be taught how to dance?” 

Loki sat down and rested his back against the tree. “I am afraid not; only those who already possess the ability can train it further.” 

“How come?” 

“It is much like breathing: you need organs designed for that purpose, or it simply can't be done.” 

The two of you followed him down onto the dark-green blanket, Kari taking a sip of her drink to hide her slight disappointment and you reaching for one of the strange vegetables – or at least you guessed it to be a vegetable. It tasted rather bitter, though, so you quickly changed your choice. 

After trying a few new things a chuckle caught your attention. You glanced at the prince from the corner of your eye, your teeth sunken half-way into one of the fruits you particularly enjoyed, and noticed how he was looking at you with an amused smirk on his face. Your mouth was too stuffed to properly ask him what he thought to be so funny, but a questioning, nasal hum came close enough. His grin only grew. 

“I have known these things since birth and never thought much of it, yet you examine each one like it's of greater worth than gold. Your fascination never ceases to amaze me, my lady.” 

You swallowed before wiping the juice from your lips. “But it is worth more than gold, isn't it? You don't need coin to survive, yet without sustenance your body will stop functioning.” 

Kari frowned. “But without coin you can't get produce.” 

“Food can be found everywhere if you know where to look.” You smiled, taking a sip of the strange red liquid. You tasted elderberries, honey, and cinnamon, but the other things you couldn't quite figure out. 

“But given the choice between an endless supply of money or an endless supply of fruit, wouldn't you pick the first?” 

You thought for a moment. “I don't think I would pick either – is that an option or do I have to choose?” 

“If you had to.” Another few beats of silence, Kari watching you intently and Loki smiling ever so slightly, but hiding it behind his cup. After a couple moments more she grew slightly impatient as the answer seemed obvious to her. “Well?”

“It's hard...” Your frown deepened. “If I pick the money, I could support both smaller and larger businesses and make sure everyone would get paid enough to have a comfortable life; I could help the homeless, fund research and educational institutions, and make sure the elderly and the young are taken good care of – but it could wreck the economy, and nothing ever works out like you want it to. People might start complaining about the fairness of the distribution, or some might take advantage and raise their prices so that the gap between the poor and the rich stays the same. I'm not sure about all the consequences, or if the bad things could be prevented, but I don't think this would work.” 

You took another sip, your eyes staring beyond this realm and seeing nothing as you were too caught up in your thoughts. 

“If I choose the food, it would be much the same. I could provide the poor and homeless with the sustenance they might not get, give them goods to sell, and if the harvest failed no one would have to die of starvation. Or I could make endless money by selling the fruits myself and use that; but then you end up with the problems of the other choice again. But, if I had to choose, I would go with the food. I would safely store it, and only distribute it in times of need or in small amounts to those who need it – but problems I cannot foresee would inevitably rise.” 

You nodded to yourself, as if confirming your conclusion, and focused your eyes back on reality to look at Kari – whose stare was blank and whose lips were parted as she was lost in her mind. It took a few moments before she spoke. 

“I never looked at it like that.” She let out a little huffed laugh. “I just thought that it would be nice to be able to buy new dancing shoes whenever I desired, things like that. Wouldn't you want to live in such luxury?” 

You grinned. “Well, I certainly wouldn't need it to be happy, but I must admit that I wouldn't hate it either.” Your expression softened as your fingers caressed the beautiful fabric of your dress. “Wearing dresses like this, dancing to beautiful music, exotic food, having a picnic in the beautiful palace gardens, great company...” You smiled warmly at them, your gaze fond. “I will definitely miss those things when I return to Blacktree.” 

Loki's eyes widened ever so slightly and he bent forward a bit. “You are going home?” It sounded more like a disappointed statement than a question.

Afraid of the hurt you might see in his eyes you kept yours averted to your fingers and the hem of your garment between them. Even though he loved Ylva, he still saw you as a friend; and you knew it would sadden him if you left. But, in the end, you didn't really have a choice, did you? It was as the white-haired princess had said: soon they would marry, she would carry his child, and there would be no more room for someone like you. 

“Eventually.” 

For a few moments, the only sound was that of the breeze filtering through the curtain of branches and the chirping of foreign birds; and the realisation that you would leave at some point or another found its way into their minds. Maybe they hadn't truly thought about it before, or at all, or maybe they had. It didn't matter. 

You felt your nose starting to tingle – a warning. You forcefully pushed back any negativity, trying to keep it out of your voice, and tried to turn the conversation into a more positive direction. “But not yet, of course - we have barely just arrived here. I still want to dance at the ball now that I know how it's done, and I still want to read some of the books I borrowed from the library.” You shot a glance at Kari, to see if she would disapprove of your actions, but she simply seemed relieved by the fact that you were staying a bit longer. You sent the both of them a fond smile. “Not to mention that I still want to spend more time with you, picnicking and talking, doing things like that.” 

“You are welcome to stay here as long as you want.” Kari answered your smile. “There will be lots of balls where we can dance, and we can have picnics every evening if you wish.” 

You huffed out a soft laugh. “That sounds great.” 

 

The three of you ate until your stomachs protested, the conversation staying at the level of casual small talk, and your voices and laughter filled the evening air until the sun had left the skies. Then, for a while, no one spoke; until Loki brought up your departing again. 

“You cannot leave on your own; there are too many men and women out there who wish to do you harm and against whom you can't protect yourself.”

You didn't want to talk about this, but a plan quickly came to mind. You glanced at Kari with a look that said 'wait for my sign', and, without the raven-haired prince noticing it, she nodded. You met Loki's eyes again, trying to keep the feigned irritation on your face even though a smirk threatened to betray you. 

“Are you certain? I am quite sure that I'll be able to escape, no matter the situation.” 

And you truly knew the prince too well: he reacted exactly as you had hoped him to.

“Why don't we test it, then?” 

Before you knew it he had you pinned to the ground, his hands holding your wrists beside your head and his knees keeping you in place. You ignored how your stomach twisted and allowed your grin to break through; and, as the prince squinted slightly in confusion, you yelled: 

“Now!” 

Kari flew at him with a battle cry that morphed into laughter and attacked his sides with her wriggling fingers before you joined her in the assault. The prince fell over onto the grass, laughing loudly and trying to defend himself, but the two of you had easily overpowered him and had him squirming beneath your hands – every counterattack he tried failed within seconds. 

Through the laughter he managed to call out: “Mercy!” 

And, kindhearted as both of you were, you ceased the onslaught. Kari sat back on her bum before allowing gravity to pull her back to the grass and you lay down as well, head resting on Loki's chest as you gazed up at the canopy and tried to get your breathing back under control. Your cheeks hurt from laughter and adrenaline rushed through your veins, but it felt great. 

Even in his breathing could you hear his smile. It felt as if your soul was glowing with both light and warmth, your fondness so deep that it made the underlying pain fade almost completely; yet it also dulled your perception of the world around you and so your heart skipped a beat when the prince placed one hand on your stomach and softly started moving the fingers of his other one through your hair.  
You closed your eyes, focusing on his touch as if to take in as much of it as possible. Where the air was oppressive his fingers were cool; his chest rose and fell, rose, and fell, on the steady rhythm of his heart. 

When you opened your eyes again it felt like no time had passed at all – yet the air had lost its warmth and the blanket on which you had sat before was now draped over both you and Loki, on whose chest your head was still resting. Your body was closer to his, and, in return, his arm was further around you; though his grasp was without strength. You glanced at him: he was asleep. Then, you searched for Kari. When she noticed you were awake she sent you a beaming smile, waving shortly but knowing not to speak, and when you pointed at the blanket she nodded. You mouthed a 'thank you'. Her smile only widened. 

 

You didn't know how much longer you spent underneath the willow. Time seemed to have stopped or maybe even disappeared completely, as if you were living in an endless moment of serenity. You didn't mind. The moment could last for all of eternity and you would be satisfied; even though the urge to roll onto your side, lean over, and kiss him awake was more than merely tempting. A soft yawn reminded you of Kari's presence, however, and you quickly pushed the thought away. 

She stood, popping her back. “I think I'll be off to bed. We need to be well-rested if we want to dance for hours, after all.” 

You sat up, careful not to disturb Loki, and stretched your arms above your head before answering in the same whispered tone. “It's a wise decision, but I don't want to wake him just yet.” You cast a glance at the fair-skinned prince beside you. 

“That's okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then.” 

She parted the curtain of branches and, after a last exchanging of 'good night's, disappeared into the world beyond it. You stood without making a sound, draped the dark-green cloth over the rest of his body, and watched his peaceful expression for a few more seconds before walking towards the natural barrier as well. With the back of one hand you pushed a few strands to the side and peeked through. You took a deep breath and let the fresh air fill your lungs completely as your eyes drifted up at the stars above – it had become quite a habit, stargazing; hadn't it? 

“Come back to bed.” 

If the crickets had chirped louder you wouldn't have heard him, so quietly had he whispered. You froze, your heart speeding up ever so slightly, yet when you dared to glance back you noticed he was still mostly asleep. The hope you had felt swirling amongst the butterflies disappeared, and your heart grew heavy. What had you expected, really? His subconscious probably thought he was in his chambers, and that it was Ylva, not you, who had been laying at his side. A sting pierced your chest.  
'Come back to bed'. He had said that with Ylva in mind.  
Images of familiar thin lips on pigment-less skin came flooding again, and you softly cursed out into the night. You were too tired to deal with this right now. 

Loki groaned as he tried to find his way back to reality, so you let the branches fall back and moved over to him; meeting his eyes when he sat up. 

“What's the time?”

You gave him his glass. “A bit after midnight.” He handed it back empty, and you offered him your hand to help him to his feet. He took it. “I think it might be best if we return to our chambers.” 

He moved his fingers through his black hair and let out a soft, sleepy sigh. Then, with a single, elegant movement, he made the blanket, the glasses, and the trays disappear. At that moment his name rang through the air, and your stomach dropped. If Ylva discovered the two of you, alone, shielded from the world by the weeping willow- 

Loki stepped out. Panic rushed over you – were you to stay, or to step through as well? Without having a chance to think it through you followed him, and left the safety of the enclosed spot. 

To your relief you managed to walk far enough from the tree to avoid suspicion before the princess spotted you. As expected she immediately dragged him away, her river of words never-ending and her smile saccharine sweet – except, of course, when she glanced back at you and showed her murderous rage. She had warned you to stay away. You hadn't taken it to heart. It was obvious you could expect another assassination attempt soon. 

But that wasn't what filled your thoughts as you walked back to your room, or when you undressed, or took a bath, or stuffed some herbs into your mouth, or when you buried yourself under the ochre covers. 

_”Come back to bed.”_

He had stepped out so quick at hearing her voice. Had he longed to see her? Had he dreamed of her? Were their bodies already intertwined? You didn't want to know. You didn't want to care. But you loved him, and he loved her, and everything was fucked up and it all drove you insane and it hurt, it hurt; fuck, it hurt. 

 

But eventually you ran out of tears to cry or energy to use, and the relief of sleep washed away your consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some good times, with a bitter end. 
> 
> Kari is such an adorable shit and I love her ♡ 
> 
> What would you pick, the money or the food?
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	37. XXXVII

You turned to the side once more, scanning your reflection from top to toe. No, the dagger couldn't be hidden in this dress: the built-in corset was too tight and the lacing was too wide, meaning the scabbard would either slide through or be spotted within moments. You clenched and unclenched your fists as if to test them. Of course there was still that part of your magic that you could use, but if the room was too crowded you might hurt more innocent bystanders than those who actually tried to harm you – not to mention that you would most certainly be hanged or captured once you showed what you could do. Was it still part of your magic, anyway? You wondered if Loki was able to do the same; yet from the ways everyone had reacted – he himself included, you had begun to doubt. What if it wasn't your magic, but something else entirely? Something to keep hidden even deeper into the depths of yourself? Would he hate you for not telling, even though you had assumed he had the same ability? Would he hate you if it truly turned out not to be another kind of magic, and would he fear you if he saw? 

Your gaze shifted from your outfit to the door before Audhild had even knocked, and you caught her by surprise by opening it not a second later; yet she surprised you in turn by carrying a tray of food inside. 

“The king and queen have decided not to have a communal breakfast today as they will be preparing for the ball afterwards.” 

“Then will you have breakfast with me? It's been a while.” 

She answered your kind smile with a grateful one and nodded. “I would very much like that, miss.” 

 

You didn't speak much, but Audhild had enough to tell for the both of you. Between bites – and sometimes even with her mouth stuffed – the young maid told you all the latest gossip and rumours, all the drama amongst servants and royalty alike, and anything else she could possibly think of; not leaving out a single juicy detail. Your giant grin only encouraged her to continue. 

“-and there was this weird man seen wandering through the hallways but no one recognised him, like some caught glimpses but no one truly _saw_ anything, and since two days ago he hasn't been spotted at all-” 

Suddenly she stopped. 

You blinked, waiting a few heartbeats for her to continue – until you noticed the blood draining from her face and her throat clenching shut, causing your eyes to grow wide. You grabbed the clementine from her hand, smelled it - the faint scent of poison setting off more alarm bells inside your brain - and you rushed to grab your bag in which you desperately sought for the right jars.

“Audhild, Audhild focus on me-” You shook some of the pulverized herbs onto your hand and opened her mouth to brush it onto her tongue, then brought your cup to her lips. “Drink.” 

She choked down the water, gurgling and sputtering but drinking nonetheless. Sweat ran down her forehead and her eyes stood unfocused. Had you been too late? Had the poison been too much, too strong for her frail body? You grit your teeth as you tried to stay calm, waited for the antidote to work, yet the panic made your heart pound in your ears – not Audhild, please not her. A few more moments passed in which you could do nothing but stand by and watch. You felt helpless. Useless. 

Then her colour slowly returned, her muscles relaxing gradually, and her eyes focusing again as a sob shook her body once. 

Relief washed over you and you pulled her up into a hug. The realisation of what could have happened hit home and her voice sounded through the room as she started wailing, shoulders shocking with each sob even though she held onto you with all the force her arms could muster, and you shushed her, held her, rubbed her back and repeated that she would be okay over and over again. 

It took a while before she calmed down again. Her face was puffy and red but you were glad; glad she was still alive, glad her life hadn't been taken at such a young age. You guided her to the bathroom and warmed the water in the basin, not caring that she saw your magic, before checking the vial to make sure it truly was the lavender oil you had used before. 

“Take a bath, it will soothe you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Please, get in, it will do you good, I promise.” 

She nodded, and after providing her with one of the towels you gave her some privacy. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind you, however, anger hit you like a thunderstorm. 

With one sway of your arm the food on the other side of the room burst into flames and you punched the wall so hard the skin scraped off your knuckles, blood soon trickling down your fingers. You had caused this. Because of your stupid crush his fiancée was trying to kill you and you had been so incredibly witless to offer Audhild the same food that could have been – and, in this case, actually had been – poisoned. If you hadn't been in time she would have died. If you hadn't had the right antidote she would have died. If anything had been different at all, she would have died. 

Then your rage turned to the princess. How could she be so careless? The chances of you eating the clementine had been small in the first place and surely she must have known that the servants would get the leftovers? Did she really not possess a brain to think with or did she simply not care? You healed the wounds on your hand before pulling one of the ochre banners from the wall and using it to clean up the blood. Then, you set the cloth on fire, and watched it burn. The urge to use your magic and rip out her heart rushed through your veins, your fists clenched tight as if you imagined her neck in one of them. 

But the dancing of the flames calmed you, called you back to your senses, and your shoulders fell. Not only was killing not in your nature, it was impossible: while you were but a disposable commoner, Ylva was of royal blood - any attempt at taking her life would be indirect suicide. Selfish as it may be, you still valued your life too much to sacrifice it for the benefit of the realm. 

You moved to open one of the windows, letting out the smoke as the last smouldering ashes lost their heat. The fresh air took away most of your remaining temper yet you knew it would start simmering again the moment you lay eyes upon her. How could you act like nothing was wrong when she had almost murdered a child? Was there truly no way for you to tell anyone about it and live? You shook your head before your brain would start to overheat. Everything you had believed about Yggdrasil and balance in the universe seemed to unravel more with every day that passed, and you slowly lost sight of what to believe anymore. 

The door opened and Audhild stepped out, still a bit of shock in her eyes but looking better. Then, as if she had just realised something, she turned to face you.

“You saved my life.” 

You nodded solemnly. “I am also the one who put you in danger of losing it.” You walked over to her, but refrained from reaching out. “I am so sorry you had to go through that, I should have been more careful-”

She shook her head. “I know you would never poison me, miss.” Then another realisation struck her, and her eyes grew even wider. “You were the target - someone's trying to murder you-” 

“And I know who.” You sighed softly, speaking again before she could ask. “But it doesn't matter. I've got it under control; there is no need for you to worry.” 

“But they're trying to _murder_ you, miss!” 

A mirthless laugh escaped your lungs. “They certainly do.” 

“Then why are you not terrified?” 

There was so much disbelief and worry in her posture that it warmed your heart; she had only known you for a couple of days and already she cared for your wellbeing. How you wished you could take her from this life, take her out of Ylva's reach, give her a future of her choosing instead of one that had been forced on her - but you couldn't. If the events of just now proved anything it was that you weren't fit to be a mother, or anything like it. 

Your voice lost some of its confidence, yet you didn't avert your eyes. “To tell you the truth, I am a bit afraid; I think everyone in this situation would be. But what I'm most afraid of is not dying, it's getting other people hurt - people like you, who don't deserve getting caught up in this... this mess.”

She nodded slowly, hesitantly, only partially understanding. “But if you know who wants to kill you then why don't you tell the prince with the black hair and the frightening grin? He cares about you, surely he must want to protect you?” 

You smiled at her description of Loki. It had been some time since he had truly frightened you, and even then it hadn't been as bad as most people assumed; but you understood that, for a child her age and for someone who knew nothing of his soft heart, his smirk was indeed a bit frightening. She had noticed he could care about others, though, so she was already one step ahead of anyone else. 

“I wish it could be that simple. But, as I said, I have it under control; so please don't tell anyone else about this, okay? I don't want others to get in trouble because of me, and you already told me how rumour travels fast around here.” 

She nodded again, but more determined. “All right.” She moved to the door, opened it, and waited for you to follow. “If there's anything you ever need, we are on your side, miss. Anything you want and we will help you.” 

You sent her a grateful smile, but your heart twisted. No matter how many servants offered their help, no matter how many pledged their loyalty, they would never be able to give you the only thing – the only _person_ you truly wanted. 

 

Once the entrance to the throne room was in sight she disappeared down another hallway, and you were left to continue on your own. Voices and music reached your ears before the guards had even opened the doors. The ball had already started and people were already swirling around in the centre, but to your relief your arrival went unnoticed by most. The first who spotted you was, of course, Ylva. The disbelief in her eyes pleased you greatly until it switched to frustration; and, when she noticed your glance shifting to the fair-skinned prince at her side, it finally morphed into hate.  
When Loki noticed you as well you sent the both of them a polite smile and a bow of your head, then disappeared into the crowd before he had even been able to set a step in your direction. 

You were simply going to observe, wait for the end, and go back to your room as soon as the unwritten rules allowed you to. 

But the universe had other plans. In the span of an hour, four men asked you to dance – one of them nearly making a scene when you declined him as well – and it appeared that it was now a battle for your first dance of the day. You heard people whisper about you when you tried to find a quiet spot; words like 'foreign princess' and 'unbetrothed' reaching your ears and both annoying you in equal amounts. Your presence had been a secret for about ten minutes. 

When yet another man approached you slipped away in the sea of people again, but wherever you looked there were eyes aimed at you, scanning you, before the same words were spoken over and over again in whispered tones. Frantically you searched for Kari, or Rangvaldr, or even Brant, as you needed someone to talk to so you could keep everyone else at bay. 

Then you spotted the table with refreshments. Holding a glass of... whatever it was, surely that would be enough of an excuse? 

Weaving your way through the guests was almost a dance of its own but you managed to reach the table without too much trouble, and you already felt more grounded with a drink in your hand and your hip against the metal table. Yet, once again, your luck left you. 

“Won't you honour me with a dance, young lass?” 

Your head shot to the side to look at the man who had addressed you. His eyes told you that something was wrong, that you needed to get out – and soon. 

“I'm afraid I will have to pass, but I am grateful for the offer.” 

“Aww c'mon, just for a while-” He lay his hand on your shoulder and moved closer, but you managed to keep him from pinning you against the table by swiftly stepping to the side and gently brushing his hand away. 

“I'm sorry, but I will not dance tonight.” 

It was a statement, leaving no room for further negotiation - but the man suddenly didn't seem interested anymore, and left. You watched him with a frown on your face until the crowd swallowed him, and, hoping there was alcohol in your drink, took a swig of the dark-brown liquid. 

That is when everything fell into place. 

The toxins found their way into your system, your stomach starting to burn and a lightness taking control of your mind. He had distracted you and you had been so foolish as to fall for it. You thanked the fact that you were familiar with the poison they had put in your drink and that the dosage wasn't nearly enough to kill you - your resistance would cover for most of it, but you would feel like absolute shit for at least half an hour longer. 

The room spun slowly, then faster, then slow again, and you kept a firm hold of the table as you tried to keep yourself standing. You trusted your body not to pass out, but making a scene by sinking through your knees would be just as bad – you needed to appear fine, or Ylva might make use of your vulnerability. You kept an eye out for anyone else who looked suspicious but your vision wouldn't focus, wouldn't come through no matter how much you tried to blink the haze away.  
Ten minutes passed without anyone coming at you.  
Fifteen minutes, the burning and blur slowly fading.  
Ten more minutes and it would be gone-

Your eyes met those of prince Erlend. 

You begged Yggdrasil he wouldn't come at you but your prayers went unheard. He stalked closer, gaze fixed on yours. You glanced to the side, but there was no escape, no way you could go and no place you could hide – you were trapped in the same spot you had deemed the safest, poison running through your veins. 

He stopped, and bowed. 

 

“Can I have this dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update!  
> Who do you think will confess first?  
> Healer: II  
> Loki: ~~IIII~~ ~~IIII~~  
>  Brant/Kari/other characters: ~~IIII~~ II  
>  Idc I just want them to be happy: IIII 
> 
> It's a close race between Loki and Brant/Kari! Almost no one thinks healer is going to confess, and you guys have clearly given up on their happiness anytime soon hahaha xD
> 
> I made a quick reference sheet of Ylva and Kari! It can be found here:
>
>> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	38. XXXVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for suicidal thoughts

There was no way you could decline a prince's request, especially not in his own palace, so you took his hand with dread in every fibre of your being and let him guide you to the centre of the throne room. You managed not to flinch when he lay his other hand on your waist. 

The room spun around you and he hadn't even started dancing yet – the poison was still in your system. Your stomach felt like it had been set on fire, your bowels twisting unpleasantly, and to make matters worse the man kept intense eye contact. 

“You've been avoiding me.” He started the dance, guiding you through the steps. 

You tried to keep up without vomiting. “I've been avoiding everyone this morning, your highness.” 

“I was not only speaking of today. I know what you're doing, and I must say, you're doing it well – but there's no reason to play games anymore.” 

Anxiety shot through your heart for a moment and alarm bells starting ringing inside your head. Keep calm. Keep calm. “I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about.” 

His grip on your waist tightened, his grin darkening. “I'm sure you do. I've seen you look at me, glancing at me from the corner of your eyes.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing over your ear. “I know you want me as much as I want you.” 

The alarms in your head rose to a deafening volume and every part of you screamed to start running, to get away – but you couldn't. You put your hands against his chest and tried gently pushing him away but your body was still weakened by the toxins. 

“I think you might have misunderstood my feelings, your highness-” 

But he pulled you against him no matter how hard you tried to push him away. “Am I hearing this right? Are you declining a prince?” There was an edge to his voice that only made the panic bloom. Just a few more minutes and you would have enough strength to use your magic, to get away - but he held you against him with such force it was getting hard to breathe. “No one has ever declined me, and no one ever will.” 

“I am sorry to be the first, but I simply do not feel that way about you. I am sure there are many other women waiting for a chance to dance with you-” 

His tone turned frightening, and his gaze made your heart speed up in fear. “You should be grateful for my attention. I've been patient with you, and this is how you respond?” His words turned into hisses and his hands dug into your skin like claws. “I could just have you right here and no one would be able to do anything about it, would you like that?” 

You tried to move but he was too strong, no, the poison had been too strong. “Let go of me-” He leaned in to kiss you but you turned your face away and planted your heel onto his toes. 

“Bitch!” 

“Let me go!” 

“Fuck-” 

Yet he still didn't let go. Your struggle had caught the attention of bystanders and you tried to meet their gazes but they looked away, looked anywhere else, pretended not to see – until suddenly everyone's eyes shot in the same direction.

“ _How dare you touch her!_ ”

Within a few strides Loki was at your side. He pulled you free from Erlend's arms and moved between the two of you before grabbing the man's collar and, seemingly without effort, pulling him off his feet. The intensity of the rage in his eyes was unlike anything you had ever seen before; you could feel his magic rush through the air like a hurricane, his voice loud and deep like the threatening rumble of an earthquake. 

He was going to kill him. 

As much as you hated him you didn't wish for his death, nor did you want Loki to have blood on his hands because of you, and panic surged through your body as images of all possible outcomes shot through your head. 

“Loki, stop-” 

You touched his arm but he didn't listen, didn't hear you; his anger had taken over and there was nothing that could stop him from tearing the wriggling Erlend to pieces. Then, everything happened at once. 

Loki raised his fist.  
The crowd started screaming.  
You felt your strength return.  
You made a decision.

You reached out, cupped your hands around his face, pulled it towards you-

And pressed your lips against his. 

 

For a moment he froze.  
The fabric slipped from his grasp and the foreign prince fell to the ground before hurriedly getting back on his feet and taking his distance with utmost terror in his eyes – but neither of you paid attention to him any more. Then, one slender hand slowly sneaked around your waist, and the other came up to cup your cheek.

He kissed you back. 

His lips pressed against yours, first tenderly then almost hungrily, and he was kissing you back- he was really- you were- why was he kissing you back? Why? Your skin started to tingle and butterflies erupted and you couldn't take it you couldn't do this-

Before his hand could reach your face and deepen the kiss you broke it, your mouth hovering less than an inch away from his, and whispered: 

“I'm sorry.” 

And you sent your magic into his brain. 

All strength left him as he slumped to the ground, the only thing keeping him from smacking into it being your support, and you lowered him slowly, carefully, until his back lay flat against the white marble floor. You set a step back, and another. The screaming had subdued and people were now looking at you with horror, their wide eyes switching between you and the raven-haired man, their mouths open in disbelief. 

Erlend stared at you, sweat running down his forehead and his hand resting on the dagger badly hidden behind his belt. “What did you do to him?” 

Your heart was beating in your throat and you could hear your blood running through your veins. “H-he's not dead, he will just be out for a while.” You set another step away from the unconscious man. “I...” Everyone was staring at you. “I have to go.” 

You turned around, and ran.

 

The door to your chambers slammed shut behind you and you held yourself, wrapped your arms around your chest as you let out a pained, choked sound as your heart felt like it was ripping itself apart for so many reasons it only amplified how much it hurt. The realisation of what could have happened made you sick, fear still burning inside your veins; yet the memory of the kiss, of his soft lips - _he had kissed you back_ -  
You let out another cry as the butterflies teared at your insides, vicious, uncontrollable, brutal. 

You were going insane. 

It was sheer luck that allowed you to reach the chair before you sank through your legs and you hunched over, arms holding your trembling figure, and you cried and cried as if all sense of shame had left you. You had ruined everything. You had ruined _everything_. But he- why had he kissed you back? You didn't understand-

Your shoulders shocked with every loud sob and you didn't hold back anymore, you couldn't, so you screamed. Pain. Agony. Torture. It felt like you were dying. Your fingers clawed at your chest because you needed to get rid of it, needed to get rid of the heart inside because it no longer served any purpose, needed to rip it out and throw it away before it started to rot. You wanted to die. You wanted to slam your fist through the window, not caring if the glass cut your skin, not caring if the bones and fingers would break, wanted to throw yourself into the arms of what sounded like salvation -  
but even now you realised it was madness. 

So you just sat there until your body ran out of water to spill. Until your face itched like it had been rubbed with poison ivy. Until your breathing felt less like drowning.

 

You didn't know how long it took, but eventually your body stopped shaking and a sudden, clear realisation struck you: you couldn't stay here. If the foreign prince wasn't personally coming to rape you then Ylva would come and try to murder you, and you didn't want to be present if either of them should arrive.  
So you forced yourself to stand, to walk, to grab your bag and anything else that belonged to you. You changed into a pair of pants and a shirt, leaving both dresses that had been given to you on the table. But when you stood in front of the door you froze.  
Your hand lay still on the knob, hesitating. Stay, go, you wanted neither, you wanted both, you didn't know what to do. All your determination was suddenly gone, and you began to doubt yourself. How would you find the way back home? Would you even manage to find the exit of the palace, and if you did, would you be in time before anyone found you? You set two steps back. Would you be safest here? Should you just wait for someone to come and break you? Should you shatter the glass window anyway, so that you would at least have a second way out when they arrived? It would be safest to be out in the open, so that you had enough room to use your magic or ability, but even the halls wouldn't be big enough if you truly wanted to have a meaningful advantage-

A knock rang through the room. 

Your eyes widened, panic increasing, fear expanding explosively. Should you stay quiet? Should you hide? Should you prepare for an attack? 

“____, it's me.” 

...Brant? You blinked, not knowing how to feel. Had he come to tell you how he had predicted this? How you could have prevented this? How you should have listened to him? You didn't know whether he was friend or foe. You didn't know anything. 

“Can I come in?”

Your words got stuck in your throat but your answer wouldn't have mattered anyway, as the knob turned and the door opened. He met your gaze. Judging by his reaction you looked like shit, and fear suddenly switched to anger – so you turned your back to him and tried to get yourself back under control, wiping your arm across your face and clearing your throat before you dared to speak.

“I'm leaving.” 

“What- why?” 

Your head snapped back and you looked at him as if he was the crazy one. “Because I fucked it up, Brant! I fucked it all up! Shit-” You groaned in frustration and your hands formed fists once more, the urge to punch something growing stronger; but soon all your strength faded again, and a terrifying emptiness settled within. “I can't take this anymore. It hurts too much, and I just can't take it anymore.” 

“I'm... Not sure I understand-” 

“I kissed him.” 

Brant stayed silent, and you sighed. Your voice was now reduced to something pathetic, something barely above a whisper, and you hated how it broke mid-sentence. “It was merely to get him to stop. His mind is always guarded against magic and for mine to work I needed to get that barrier down, I needed to surprise him to gain access-” You huffed out a short, mirthless laugh. “I didn't have time to think it through, to find other ways to catch him off-guard, and this is what first came to mind and now he knows – he must know.” 

Brant still looked clueless. “Know what?” 

You shot him another disbelieving look. Was he truly that dense? “That I am in love with him! What else could it possibly be?”

He froze, his eyes widening ever so slightly, but he quickly covered it up again and shook his head. His next words were careful, cautious, as if he did not fully dare to ask them. “I still don't understand what you see in him.” 

“Do you want a list?” Your patience was running out and tears were forming in the corners of your eyes again. “Do you want me to name it all? So you can shake your head some more? Sure, why not!” You threw your hands up in the air in a grand gesture of frustration. It felt like there was more anger than blood flowing through your veins - but it quickly turned to pain after you had started your rant, and the floodgates broke only a few words in. 

“I love everything about him. I love his voice, how he speaks; how he teases me. I love how he walks, how he moves. None of you believe me when I speak of his kindness but his heart is soft even though he acts so proud and tough. He can be so gentle, so warm-” you chuckled quietly at the paradox, wiping away the tears that kept coming. “I love his eyes. His beautiful, soft hair; his cheekbones, his jawline. I love his nose, his lips, his smile - and his laugh, gods-” A loud, embarrassing sob shook your shoulders. “His laugh is something I never wish to forget.” 

You covered your face for a second, taking a deep breath before dragging your hands down and letting them fall to your sides again. “I love his intelligence. I love his sense of humour. I love how he can dance, how he masters magic in ways I can never hope to achieve. I love how he makes me feel whenever he's near me. I love everything about him, Brant, and to see him with Ylva-” You nearly choked on the lump in your sore throat. “And he loves her a-and he's g-going to marry her a-and I don't- I can't-” 

You covered your face again to hide how it kept streaming. If you had looked like shit before it was definitely even worse now. You didn't dare to look at him, afraid of his judgment – because the only conclusion he could come to was that you were absolutely pathetic; and he would be right. 

He didn't speak. 

You waited a few more moments in silence before finally turning around again to look at him, words of frustration already on your lips-

Your stomach sank through the ground and your heart stopped beating, your lungs forgetting how to breathe. Long, black, slicked back hair; thin lips, pale skin. His posture was tense and his feet nailed to the ground, and his beautiful green-blue eyes stood wide with disbelief – unmoving and fixed on you. 

For a few seconds, time seemed to stand still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HO SHIT HO SHIT
> 
> So this means that technically healer was the one who confessed - though unbeknownst to her - and that almost all of you were wrong! Even the people who thought healer was going confess weren't able to predict how it would go, and that makes me very, _very_ happy muahaha  >:D Thank you for leaving all your wonderful theories on this matter! Now, on to the next - let's see who can accurately guess who the stranger is! The theories that have been mentioned so far:  
> -A guy from Blacktree  
> -A guy from healer's biological family  
> -The 'dragon' mentioned in the first couple of chapters  
> -The prince of Yllgard → debunked  
> -The dude that was an asshat to Brant's sister  
> -Brant's dad  
> -Ylva in shapeshifter form → debunked
> 
> Please, leave your theories once more my dear readers! Do you agree with one of the theories already given? Do you want to go more into specifics? I would love to read your every thought on our mysterious stranger!  
> Oh, and let me know: did you believe it was Brant or did you not trust it? I seem to have made you all very paranoid (and for good reasons) hihi ♡ 
> 
> Perhaps you have already seen it, but I have made some quick reference sheets for a few members of the royal family of Yllgard (more to come) which I have uploaded to my insta and tumblr.  
> (Kari and Ylva) http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/post/163640013184/feelingwonderfultoday-feelingwonderfultoday  
> (Erlend) http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/post/163675776324/and-heres-prince-erlend-i-had-a-tough-time  
> (The Queen) http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/post/163682092789/the-queen-without-name-mother-of-two-princesses  
> https://www.instagram.com/lovelyfaceslovelythoughts/  
> I hope this makes it easier for those who want to draw fanart! As a matter of fact, fanart is already being made at the moment :D I am so hyped holy shit
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	39. XXXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everyone was so shook and possibly going mad I have put aside my title of 'Evil' for a moment and hereby present you another chapter - a day early. ;D  
> I have laughed and smiled so much at all your comments, and more than a hundred on one chapter?? Holy shit that's insane! I feel so validated ;u;  
> Thank you all so much for showing your support, and please enjoy!

For a fraction of a second his lips pulled up in an incredulous smile before his face fell to a disbelieving stare again. Then, he set a step forward. And another. And your heart remembered how to beat and it sped up faster and faster and faster with every inch he took away from the distance between the two of you and you felt like you were going to faint, like you were going to pass out on the spot-

“S-stop.” 

He stopped. He was only a few feet away. 

“Please don't come closer.” It was a pathetic plea for mercy, spoken in an even more pathetic way; voice wavering, breaking, broken. 

He smiled, but it looked hurt. “Why not?” 

“If Ylva comes in-” You didn't finish your sentence as you felt tears welling up again. “I'm sorry, I- please, just go.” 

He set another step forward and you set one back yet he still managed to shorten the distance between the two of you. Another step forward. Hesitant, yet confident – a paradox. You didn't understand. 

“Loki...” A last warning, but it was weak. Your bum hit the edge of the table yet you couldn't rip your eyes away from his, he had caught your gaze, had fixed it in place, and held it with an intensity that almost scared you. 

“I don't care about Ylva.” 

Your eyes widened. He was less than four steps away from you. 

Three steps away. 

Two.

One. 

Zero. 

You looked away, hands keeping tight hold of the tabletop yet trembling still, heart beating so loud you feared the whole palace would be able to hear it, but his hand found the side of your face and gingerly forced you to meet his gaze again. His other hand cupped your other cheek.  
He leaned closer.  
Closer.  
His lips brushed over yours and you barely held in the whimper caused by the violence of the butterflies inside of you. You glanced at him through half lidded eyes; he did the same, his breath rolling down your skin. 

“Loki-” 

And he kissed you. 

Your eyes fell shut, your hands finding his chest and moving up to his shoulders, where you held on tight out of fear you might fall out of reality. His fingers moved down your neck, your arms, to sneak around to your back and pull you against him, his mouth moving on yours; first tenderly then increasingly hungry like the kiss at the ball, and your insides were going wild. One of your hands slid into his long, slicked back hair. He growled deeply, the sound rumbling through his chest and heat started pooling between your legs, and he claimed your mouth deeper, harder, ravenous.  
Until both of your needed to gasp for air. 

 

You opened your eyes and met his dark, predatory gaze. Both your breathing was laboured, chests heaving against each other, and the beating of your hearts seemed to match in speed and intensity. He planted a kiss on your lips, on the corner of your lips, on your jaw, below your ear-

“You have no idea how I have longed for you.” 

He whispered it, breathed it down your neck before placing kisses there, grazing his teeth over your skin, and you let out the tiniest little moan. He grinded himself against you in response and you could feel his hard arousal press against you, sending another wave of heat through your body, your head feeling light. 

“I have been craving your touch for so long-” He softly bit down on the tender spot where your neck met your shoulder and you gasped. “Every moment in your presence was like sweet torture. Yet I never thought-” He didn't finish his sentence, his lips falling still against your shoulder. 

You ghosted your mouth over his pale neck. “You never thought...?” 

He stayed silent for a moment. Then, softly: 

“I never thought someone could fall for me.” 

You gently pushed him back so you could look him in his eyes but he averted them, turned his head the other way. You could still feel his sadness, his pain, his loneliness; his usually straight shoulders having fallen ever so slightly and his jaw clenched shut. 

You stared at him in disbelief. “Why in the world would that thought even cross your mind?” 

He turned to meet your gaze now, and you could see all the self-doubt and self-loathing you had seen the day he had cried in your arms. “Am I not the trickster? The deranged prince? Cold, secluded, corrupt? Not to mention that I turn into a blue-skinned, red-eyed monster-” 

“Loki.” Your voice was stern, causing him to shut up immediately. “You are _not_ a monster. I have told you before that neither of your forms bother me – though, now I think about it, I'd rather you don't turn into Brant again.” This earned you a quiet chuckle, and you smiled in return; even though thousands of emotions seemed to fight for your attention. 

“If only you could see yourself as I see you. You know now that I... well, that I have,” you cleared your throat, “-feelings for you. Not to mention that princess Ylva seemed to like you a lot as well-” 

He frowned, his slender hands resting on your hips. “Ylva doesn't like me, she likes the power our marriage would grant her.” 

“But I thought you and Ylva...” You quickly shut your mouth, a blush rising to your cheeks as you averted your eyes and a sting shooting through your heart. 

His frown only deepened. “That Ylva and I what?” 

You looked anywhere but at him, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “You know...” You took a deep breath. “...shared a bed.” 

He looked at you as if you were mad. “Why would you think that?” 

“She told me-” 

“She lied.” 

You stared at him for a second, then allowed the air from your lungs to escape in a sigh. “I'm glad.” Your voice had fallen to a whisper, yet he heard you loud and clear. That delicate emotion crept into his eyes, a fond smile on his lips, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I do wonder, my lady, how long you have felt this way.” 

You knew your face was bright, brighter than it had ever been before. Why was it so embarrassing to talk about this? He knew how you felt – you had even _listed_ all the things you liked about him – and he didn't mock you for it; so why did it still cause your cheeks to gain colour?

“I... I don't know when it started, but... Do you remember the first fight we had?” 

“About that dragon of yours?” 

You nodded. “That morning I realised I found you – well... rather attractive. I still thought it was hunger that made my stomach twist back then, or fear, or any other excuse I could come up with. I might have started to fall for you since the berry fight, however.” 

His eyes grew slightly wider. “That was only a day after we had met – you did not even know me back then. Two days later I nearly choked you to death!” He stared disbelievingly at you, deep regret swirling amongst the colours.

“Yet the day after you took away my pain, you let me ride with you, you allowed me to fall asleep against you; I had seen through your act, I knew you were kind at heart.” A short silence fell as both of you retraced your memories. 

Then realisation crept into his eyes. “The sadness I saw in your eyes, of which you said I was not the cause-” 

You averted your gaze again. “It was not your fault – it was my own for developing feelings for you. I didn't blame you. We can't help the situations in which we are born; you being a prince, of royal blood, and me being a herbalist, a commoner - and when I heard you are to marry a princess...” A tear slid down your cheek and you touched it almost absently, as you hadn't thought any to be left.

A bit of panic mixed with the greens and blues and his hands hesitantly moved up to take gentle hold of your shoulders. “Why are you crying?” 

“It hurts even more now that I know you are not in love with her. I-” The lump had returned. “Please don't hate me for not coming to your wedding, I just can't-” A sob interrupted your speech and no matter how much you wiped at your eyes the water kept coming. 

“Hey, _hey_ ,” he pulled you into his embrace, holding you tight against him. “I will not marry Ylva!” He laughed softly again, once more in incredulity. “Why in the nine realms would you think that?” 

“Are you not obligated to bind yourself to her? To rule Yllgard with her as your queen?” 

He held you for a moment longer, before gently hooking his finger under your chin and lifting it so he could kiss you again. He rested his forehead against yours, his gaze so fond, so delicate, so warm, so caring-

“How could I, when the woman I am in love with is already at my side?” 

Your heart missed a few beats and the beasts inside your belly moved so violently you thought they were finally going to rip through and break free. Then an unimaginable vulnerability and openness mixed with slight fear appeared on that beautiful, perfect face of his, and he softly cleared his throat as if he needed to gather courage to speak.

“Will you accept my affections?” 

How could he still doubt your answer? The tears only came faster now, but they were no longer out of pain and a watery smile found its way onto your face. 

“Yes, Gods, _yes_ -” 

He claimed your mouth before you could even finish speaking and he pulled you flush against him once more, needing you closer, needing your touch, needing you _everywhere_ -

Two short taps against the door. 

“Are you there, miss?” 

Audhild. 

Struck by sudden embarrassment you pushed the prince away, whispering a quick 'hide in the bathroom' before rushing over to the door. You glanced back yet he still stood there, an amused smirk on his face, and only after you sent him a pleading look did he do as he was told. Only when he was fully out of sight you opened up. 

The young maid let out a relieved sigh, visibly relaxing. “I'm glad you are all right, miss. Selby saw you running through the hallway like you had just escaped your execution and I wondered if someone had tried to kill you again. If I may speak my thoughts, miss, I was a bit afraid to find you lifeless in your chambers.” 

Images of a terrified Audhild standing in front of your chamber doors flashed before your eyes, of how she gathered the courage to knock even though she knew what lay on the other side may traumatise her for life. You didn't know how to respond. Her worry and bravery touched you greatly and you wanted to hug her tight, yet you didn't know whether she would appreciate it – so you sent her a warm and reassuring smile instead. 

“Thank you for caring so much for my wellbeing, but please don't risk punishment by leaving your duties in order to check on me; I wouldn't want any harm to come to you because of my actions. I'm really sorry for scaring you and Selby.” Running as if escaping your execution – it almost made you chuckle. If only they knew how true that description was. But there was no need to make her worry even more. “Please tell her I'm fine, will you?” 

She copied your smile and nodded fiercely. “I will, miss. Good day!” 

You waved her off and closed the door behind you, and at that exact moment Loki appeared in the middle of the room. Your smile quickly faded at his hurt and worried glance. 

“Again?” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“The servant girl said she was afraid someone had tried to kill you, _again_. The word implies it has happened before.” He paused for a moment, and when you didn't respond the pain in his eyes only grew. “Why didn't you tell me? Did I not promise to protect you? Was it that man you saw in the city?” 

A few more heartbeats of silence before you averted your gaze and spoke softly. “I couldn't tell you- It's- I couldn't.” 

His eyebrows pinched together and his forehead creased ever so slightly in a heartbreaking sadness that stung your chest, his tone matching yours. “Why not?” 

“Because I didn't want you to know you were going to marry a murderer.” 

It was his turn to fall silent now. You took the opportunity to explain further, as it sounded unfair and cruel even to you when you put it like that. 

“I thought you had no option but to marry her, and I didn't want to ruin your chances of a happy life by exposing her for what she was. If I told you, you wouldn't be able to love her any longer. I just wanted you to be happy.” It sounded like a weak excuse now you thought about it, and you lowered your head in shame. You should have told him after all. Would you have allowed a murderer to marry him without even giving as much as a warning? Great friend you were. 

But the anger flaring in his gaze took you aback, though it was not aimed at you. “I am going to kill that vile woman.” 

Your eyes grew wide, and you grabbed the leather of his sleeve before he could stride to the door and disappear. “Wait!” When a bit of the tension left his body and he turned his attention back to you, you continued with a pleading tone. “Please don't kill her. I don't want her blood on your hands, and I would feel just as guilty. I don't want to murder anyone, Loki, not even indirectly. And besides, you and her – and your parents...” Your voice trailed off and left your sentence unfinished. 

He stood quietly for another moment, clearly lost in thought, before visibly reaching some kind of decision or conclusion; and he moved to sit onto the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. You obeyed without a word. He didn't say anything for a while longer, breathing steadily, almost mechanically, as if he was both trying to find the right words and readying himself to speak them. 

“Odin wanted me to marry the princess of Yllgard so as to prevent any future wars between the kingdoms, and to expand the influence of his, and, in a few years, Thor's ruling – not to mention that he would be thrilled to have me out of his sight. I thought it would be for the best as well. The further away from the Allfather, the better; not to mention that it was a strategic move that would benefit both parties.” 

Your heart contracted painfully at his realistic, matter-of-fact tone that betrayed exactly how much it stung him. You hadn't forgotten about the night he had told you of his youth. How could you? Odin had raised him to use him, and when one plan failed, this would be the next – like he was a tool to be used, a sacrifice in order to reach a greater goal.  
But then some warmth found its way into his eyes, and a tiny, fond smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he absently stared into nothingness. 

“But my mother never truly agreed. Before we left she told me that, if I should change my mind, I could always come back home.” His smile widened ever so slightly before his voice fell into a tone that was matter-of-fact once more - yet lighter of heart this time. “The royal family of Yllgard would not be able to revolt if I did indeed decide to cancel the wedding - their army is simply too small to even stand a chance against ours – and so I was never truly bound to princess Ylva.” He turned to meet your gaze now and continued talking in that mesmerizing, silvery voice of his. “Of course the Allfather would never allow me to come back without a good reason, even though mother would welcome me with open arms, and I suppose murdering Ylva wouldn't be appreciated either.” He hesitated for a moment, until a playful glimmer entered his eyes and his smile stretched into a grin. “I'm trying to find the right words to say: 'thank you for nearly dying', but it is harder than you might expect.” 

You recognised the words you had spoken the night on the rooftop and laughed, but the excitement and tenderness in his eyes easily shushed you. 

“I can present this evidence and declare Ylva unsuitable to be my wife, meaning we will no longer have to stay here. You can come to Asgard – with me.” 

Your stomach twisted and your heart tingled and your smile widened and every worry you had ever had seemed to fade from existence. It was almost too much for your mind. Caught up in emotion you were unable to speak, and the prince took it the wrong way. 

“Unless, of course, that is not what you want-”

“No! No- I mean yes! Or... no?” You shook your head to get rid of the confusion. “What I mean is, I'd love to come with you. I'm... I can't tell you how happy that would make me, because no words are great enough, my prince.”

And his face brightened in the widest smile you had ever seen, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in the most beautiful crow's feet, and as your heart swelled with love you realised that there was no reason to restrain yourself any longer – so you kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter, and please let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated as well ^^  
> And we all know what the next chapter is gonna be, so buckle up ;D
> 
> For those who missed it last chapter, I have drawn some character/reference sheets of the Yllgardian royal family!  
> https://www.instagram.com/lovelyfaceslovelythoughts/  
> You can also find them on my Tumblr under the header 'my art'. 
> 
> Oh my gosh I'm still not over how shook everyone was aaa I'm so happy ;u;
> 
> The next chapter will be uploaded on the 4th of August, so the regular schedule continues (unless you guys go mental again, but no spamming! ;D )
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	40. XL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended song for this chapter: _Mr. Sandman - Syml_  
>  It has something deeply romantic and slow-paced that I wanted for this chapter, not to mention that it's a beautiful song both for listening to and for using as background soundtrack. I think the lyrics are very fitting for pre-healer Loki as well :3

His lips were cool yet not unpleasantly so, not to mention oh so soft, and your head felt light as he moved them over yours. You were drunk on his taste, high on his smell, enchanted by the magic you could feel swirling through the air. 

He let himself fall backwards onto the bed, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you onto him and to take you down as well, yet when his spine found the sheets they were no longer ochre: they were a dark, rich green. You shot up to scan your surroundings, but your mind went blank when the feeling of his clothed erection pressing against your core sent electricity bolting through you, and he used the moment to pull you back down again while meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. His hands grabbed a firm hold of your hips and pressed you harder against him, swallowing the whimper you gave in response before moving his lips to the corner of your mouth, brushing over your cheek, placing a kiss on your jaw, below your ear, to your neck, and you were melting because of it, melting under his touch. He was kissing you, bucking his hips against you, hands sliding towards your rear; because he wanted you. He wanted _you_. 

Before your thoughts could continue he gingerly bit down where your neck and shoulder met and a yelp escaped your lungs. He chuckled, running his tongue over the spot that you knew would soon bruise. 

“You are mine.” 

He nearly growled it against your skin, silken-smooth voice low and lustful, possessive, and it made your insides twist so violently your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt and you had to rest your forehead against his shoulder to keep from whimpering again. Yes, you were his – you had been for weeks, and would be for as long as he wanted you by his side. You, not Ylva, not anyone else. You.

Suddenly the whole world around you shifted and your eyes flew open, only to find you on your back with Loki hovering over you, supporting himself on his lower arms. His glance was even darker than his words – yet there was a kind of tenderness to it, a warmth that only spurred on the fire in your abdomen. 

“And I am yours.”

Your heart fluttered, jumped, made all kinds of strange little movements that made it difficult to breathe for a moment; he was yours, and yours alone. With a smile on your lips you lovingly brushed a few strands of his black hair from his face and behind his ear, leaving your palm to rest on his cheek. 

“My prince.” 

He smiled fondly, not a smirk but a smile, ghosted his lips over yours with half-lidded eyes, and you lifted your chin ever so slightly to meet him in a gentle touch. When you parted you whispered once more. 

“My Loki.”

You hadn't thought his gaze capable of turning any darker but oh had you been wrong. He growled, grinding his hips over yours almost violently and his hand moving down to grip your waist, slender fingers digging into the rough fabric, forcing the held-back moan out of your mouth before he claimed it again. 

His kiss was sending you into madness. 

Head clouded in want you almost desperately tugged at his shirt, needing it off, needing his skin on yours, until suddenly the barrier of fabric was gone – your own shirt finding the same fate, the cool air brushing over your bare chest. Without hesitation or delay his lips moved down your throat, nothing obstructing him to continue: a soft brushing of lips at the dip between your collarbones, a soft bite to the left of it, leaving you whimpering softly beneath his ministrations.  
His hand slid up to cup one breast as his tongue trailed over the other, finding your nipple and circling it almost agonizingly slowly, and you could feel him smile in satisfaction at your gasp when his mouth closed around it. Your fingers slid into his long, dark locks as memories of the time spent at the libraries appeared in front of your closed eyes. How you had caressed his hair after he had laid his head in your lap. How he had glanced up at you with clear, blue-green eyes. How that delicate emotion had swirled in them. How his smile had been sweet. How you had wanted to kiss him. And how all of those memories of him had somehow led up to his tongue trailing lower down your stomach, dipping into your bellybutton, the last of both of your garments vanishing after a single shift in the waves of his magic. 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows. “Loki, you don't-” 

But his tongue already slipped between your slick folds and you gasped again, his glance mischievous and intense as he looked up from between your legs. You could never have imagined a sight more arousing.  
Your head fell back as he placed a kiss on the most sensitive part of your body, moved his tongue along your slit, teasingly dipped it inside of you, tasting you, before continuing circling your clit. A sudden cry escaped you when he sucked viciously, but he only chuckled against your wetness at the warning glance you gave him. 

“Do not hold back; I want to hear every delicious sound you make.” 

He was skilled, there was no denying that. Even if you had actively tried you could no longer hold back the gasps and moans and he kept licking and sucking at a merciless pace, yet every time the feeling inside your belly tightened he moved his lips away to place kisses on the inside of your thighs. How he picked up on the signs you didn't know, but he was doing it well – frustratingly well. He knew exactly how to make your back arch, how to make your fingers curl into the sheets, and when to grant your muscles some rest, but it was bittersweet. The third time he stopped before you reached your climax you let out a sound between a whine and a moan and forced yourself to look down, meeting his gaze. Had he... had he not once taken his eyes off of you while pleasuring you like that?

He grinned, placing another kiss on the sensitive nub, before resting his cheek against the inside of your thigh as his hand kept your leg in place. “Is anything the matter, my love?” 

The pet name made your heart skip a few beats and you bit your lip – his eyes immediately following and growing darker. 

“You know exactly what is the matter, my prince.” 

There was no doubt he was trying to keep his smirk from growing. “I certainly do; yet I plan to take my time ravishing you. Is that not what you want?” He placed another kiss on the soft skin of your thigh, not managing to keep the corners of his lips from pulling up when he felt you shiver. 

“But how about you? Your...” You cleared your throat. “Your pleasure?” 

He chuckled. “I take great pleasure in pleasuring you, my lady. To see you move under my touch, to hear the sounds you make because of me.” He crawled up over your body, slow like a predator, his eyes never leaving yours even when his hand moved down to push your knee to the side. “I could bring you to the brink of shattering, again, and again, and again, yet not granting you release. I could worship your body for hours, satisfy you in ways you have yet to hear about.” 

He kissed you, his taste mixed with the sweetness of your own, and he moved his legs between yours with one hand pulling your thigh up to his waist. 

“Wait-” It was hard to form a coherent sentence when you could feel the tip of his hard member ghost over your folds, yet he waited - seemingly with patience. “I'm – this is- I mean, I don't have any... experience.” A twist of nerves mixed with the butterflies, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Would he be disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated? You didn't dare to glance down either. Would he even fit? 

But his eyes turned softer, his smile caring. “I would never dare to hurt you. You're more than ready, yet if anything feels wrong do not be afraid to say so.” 

You nodded, relief washing over you, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him closer so you could kiss him again. You should have known better than to doubt him - you knew his heart was kind and that he would not let harm come to you. He broke the kiss and looked you in your eyes, silently asking for permission, and you granted it with a smile and the tiniest of nods.

Slowly he pushed himself inside of you. 

Air spilled from both your lungs in a long, joined moan as he filled you to the hilt. You could feel every inch of him, of his cool, velvety skin within you, stretching you, throbbing against your walls, touching a spot you hadn't known to be so sensitive, and the sensation was so intense that for a second you feared you would faint.  
His hot breath rolled down your neck as for a moment the both of you kept still, panting, adjusting to the intimate connection. He groaned at your tightness and softly sank his teeth into your shoulder to keep himself from losing it. 

Then he began to pull out, carefully sliding back in again, maintaining a slow pace, and you wrapped your legs around his hips to grant him better access; your spine arched and your breasts pressing firmly against his toned chest. The motion sent waves through your body and, as you were able to suppress the minor discomfort, it left only pleasure that had you whimpering with every breath you took. 

“I have wanted you for so long,” he said with voice husky and deep before placing a kiss below your ear. “I have fantasized about how my name would sound rolling of your lips as I made you mine.” 

He began to pick up the pace and you held on to his shoulders as if it was the only thing keeping you alive, feeling his muscles move under your fingertips while he buried his entire length inside of you again, and again, and again. You breathed his name, earning you a low, animalistic growl in response. 

“I'm going to show you every pleasure, I will make you squirm beneath me begging for more, until you are unable to say anything but my name.”

He gradually increased the speed even more until he was pounding into you, hitting your sweet spot with every violent thrust, his mouth roaming your neck and jaw until it found your lips and claimed them with such passion it took your breath away. The wet sounds mixing with the smell of arousal and sweat should have disgusted you yet it worked like a drug, sending you out of this world and into one where only you and him existed.  
Then his fingers slipped between your bodies and attacked your nub, causing you to moan so loud it was nearly embarrassing; and the warmth within you began building again, your insides coiling up and tightening with every time his cock pressed deep inside of you, until within seconds it all came crashing down and your walls squeezed around him as your climax rolled through you and his name left your lips in the loudest cry yet. 

His member twitched and he emptied himself inside you with a loud moan of his own, yet he kept thrusting, riding out your orgasm and keeping your peak from slipping away until your legs stopped trembling. 

All tension left your muscles and you let go of him, allowing yourself to fall back onto the sheets, eyes closed as the bliss of the aftermath washed over you and tingled beneath your skin.  
He dropped himself at your side. He had not managed to keep a leash on himself and had lost control in the end, not giving truth to his statement of pleasuring you for hours, but you didn't care. His skin was still cool despite the sweat, his chest heaving with every breath, and the feeling of love you felt was so overwhelming and thorough that your heart contracted in a way that was nearly painful. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He didn't care either. 

 

The two of you lay like that for a while, holding each other in a tight embrace, panting, hearts pounding, eyes closed. You loved him. You loved him so much. Every fibre of your being was overcome with fondness for the pale-skinned, raven-haired prince, and it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. 

It hadn't nearly been as painful as you had expected, and you hadn't even needed to suppress any pain or heal any damage with your magic. With your palms against his chest you let it swirl around him, mix with his like it had wanted to do for a long time, until he groaned and moved to place another kiss below your ear. 

“Had I not warned you not to do that again?” 

You quickly pulled back your magic. “I'm sorry. Does... does it hurt?” But he chuckled darkly and pressed himself further against you – allowing you to feel him growing firm again. 

“Quite the opposite.” 

Your eyes grew wide. The first time you had tried touching his magic with yours... When had that been? During your stay in Torp? He had commanded you to stop, and when you had used your magic to wake him up that one time when you had been stuck between the soldiers he had scolded you for it as well. 

_“I do not think you even realise what you have done.”_  
_“Is it that bad?”_  
_He huffed out a short laugh. “Incredibly bad.”_  
_“Is... Is there any way I can make it right?”_  
_He laughed again, slightly shaking his head and turning around to face you – his eyes still dark as he rose his chin and smirked. “Oh, there are many ways, my lady; but I do not think you would like them.”_

It made sense now, and a blush spread on your cheeks. Well, it didn't matter anymore – if anything, this could be the best way to tease him back. A mischievous smirk began to pull on the edges of your lips. You touched him with your magic again, focusing on a particular part of him that you could feel against your thigh, and it twitched in response.

Within seconds he had pinned your wrists above your head and was hovering above you again, and you laughed as giddiness bubbled up from within. 

“I will have lots of fun teasing you with this.” 

But the glint in his eyes was no less mischievous than your grin. “Oh, but there is one detail you're forgetting, my love.” 

The pet name sent your insides twisting violently again, and his dark tone wasn't helping, yet a little bit of doubt found its way into your voice as you stared into his eyes. “And that is?” 

“It works in both directions.” 

Suddenly it was as if you could feel him all around you, as if his cool hands roamed every bit of your skin at once, until it all focused on the spot between your legs – your back locking into an arch and a your lungs sucking in a sharp breath that was far from soundless. He chuckled again, bending over to brush his lips over your budding nipple. 

“I warned you.” 

But you hadn't been defeated yet. You forcefully pushed him over and moved to straddle his hips, sending him a playful grin as you slowly slid your folds over his shaft without letting him enter. His head fell back against the mattress and his fingers formed fists in the dark green fabric, his breath shaking. 

“Ah-” 

You leaned over and trailed your hands up his lean chest, pressed your breasts against his cool skin, placed a kiss on his throat, and then whispered his name in the most seductive voice you could muster. He bent his head to look you in your eyes, lust dominating amongst the colours, and you chuckled.

“Not so eloquent now, are we, Silvertongue?” 

“Temptress.” It was all he could manage to huff as you let your magic swirl where he needed you most, but without granting him release. It was easier to pick up on the signs than you had thought. 

Sweet, sweet revenge.

You slid one hand lower, teasing his tip while you kept sliding up and down, and you could feel his heart pick up speed. The powerful prince, weak beneath your naked body, eyes closed and thin lips parted as he breathed your name – it made the butterflies go vicious, fluttering as if they wanted to tear you apart from the inside. Your need to have him fill you again reached a point where you could no longer ignore it and so you lifted your hips, aligned him with your entrance, and sunk down. 

Whimpers kept falling softly from both your lips as you began to move. You took him in to the hilt before nearly sliding completely off again, only to let him sink back in, and he couldn't take the torturous slow pace for very long – he swiftly pushed himself up and took firm hold of your hips to push you further down into his lap, urging you to speed up. With your arms around his shoulders and your cheek against his temple you followed his wordless command. Every thrust added to the muscles tightening in your belly, every kiss he placed on your neck and collarbones forced you closer and closer to the edge. Then his magic began to attack your core almost violently and oh so deliciously and the sensations became so intense that you barely registered how you cried each others name as both of you reached your climax. 

He buried his face in your neck as you held him tightly against you, both breathing heavily, and droplet of sweat ran down your heated face as you couldn't do anything but focus on the sweet sensation of him pulsing inside of you, spilling everything he had as your walls fluttered around him. Then, slowly, he pulled you down with him until you lay on his chest, his hands moving from your hips to your back as he returned the embrace. 

The air was thick with both your smells, thick with musk and sweat and sex, and it felt like nothing could be more right in that very moment. The slow rising of his chest every time he filled his lungs. The gentle falling when the air escaped him again. The gradually easing rhythm of his heart. The coolness of his skin. The velvet touch of his fingers over your spine. 

The deeply loving look in those beautiful eyes of his, and the matching smile on those thin, handsome lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a bit longer to upload this chapter, I have been re-writing and editing this chapter again and again and I'm still not fully content with it, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!  
> Gosh these dorks are so deeply in love with each other ♡ 
> 
> One or two chapters ago I got a song recommendation that fits the relationship between Loki and healer really well! It's called Real you from Three Days Grace.  
> I also got another recommendation, something with 'heart' in it? But I can't seem to find the comment anymore and I really want to listen to it, so if you were the one who told me about it, please let me know!  
> Edit: Thank you SphinxCat for reminding me of your recommendation! It was the song What About Love by Heart, and the lyrics fit their relationship really well, too!  
>  
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	41. XLI

You didn't know how long the two of you lay together, but quite frankly you didn't care. Time did no longer exist. There was only the deep serenity of feeling skin against skin, of legs tangled together, of the glowing fondness in one's heart. It was like nothing could ever disrupt that peace – until your stomach decided to protest. 

The pale-skinned prince chuckled and tightened his arms around you for a moment. “Though I would love to spend eternity like this, we will miss dinner if we don't get dressed soon.”

Despite all the things that had... well, _happened_ between the two of you, a blush still managed to find its way onto your cheeks. The thought of spending eternity being so deeply in love made you all warm and fuzzy on the inside, like a girl swooning over her crush; but you were beyond that. It was no longer just a crush, it was mutual, so... a relationship? You didn't exactly know what to call it. Yet whatever the term might be, you were not ready to let this moment go yet; and so you pressed the side of your face further against his chest.

“I'm not hungry.” 

He laughed. “Liar.” 

With a faux-pout on your face you let go and moved to sit up, moving a hand through your most likely ruined hair. Then your surroundings came to your attention again. 

“Where are we?” 

“My room.” 

Your eyes grew slightly wider. “Your room as in _your_ room? As in your room in _Asgard_?” 

His grin was enough confirmation. The green and black that matched his outfit, the dark wood of the furniture, the golden accents; it truly had 'Loki' written all over it, yet never could you have imagined a room so luxurious. There was a large fireplace with a sofa and a reading chair in front of it, their pillows looking almost as comfortable as the rug on the floor beneath them. Bookcases filled to the brim stood proud on either side, following the curving walls, until either interrupted by a large, arched window or a massive door that seemed to be made out of solid gold. Your eyes moved up. The bed you were lying on was massive, with one wooden column rising on each corner supporting a frame across which green and black fabric was draped. Never had you dreamed of seeing a canopy bed, let alone having sex in it with the man who had haunted your thoughts for a while now. 

Before you could finish taking in the entirety of the room, however, your attention shifted back to Loki. His eyes were roaming your naked body with a ravenous glance and for a moment you feared he was going to jump you, like a cat pounding on its prey. How could he be this insatiable? Not that you were complaining, of course. Your own eyes found the courage to glance him over as well. From his shoulders down his pale, smooth chest, to his toned abdomen, to-  
You quickly averted your gaze as your cheeks gained even more colour, and he snickered. 

“I do so love your reactions.” 

“Oh shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn't keep the grin from your face. 

His smirk was even wider. “Why don't you make me?” 

“Because throwing someone so high in status off their own bed doesn't seem like a very good idea, my prince,” you retorted, and he laughed loudly. 

“Come here.” 

“We really should get dressed.” 

“Come.” 

“Loki-” 

“If you keep ignoring my commands I fear I will have to punish you, and I think you know what that entails.” His eyes were dark again, expression smug, stirring up the butterflies. By the realms was he good at seducing you. 

You sighed and lay back down, hands folded on his chest to support your chin. “I can't believe you. Is twice not enough to sate your... appetite?” 

“How could I ever get enough of you, my lady? And besides, we have a lot of catching up to do.” 

As promising as it sounded, worries started coming back. There was still the whole ordeal with Ylva and Erlend, not to mention that they would probably freak out if they found the Asgardian prince missing. Your brows pulled together in a light frown. 

“How did you awake so soon, anyway? I mean, after I kissed you. My magic should have been powerful enough to keep you unconscious for at least a couple of hours.” 

“I am impressed you even managed to knock me out at all, but my mind took care of it rather quickly. Like a resistance against poison, if you will.” Then his expression turned softer, vulnerable. “I am glad it did, or you might have left - and since I have taught you how to hide your magic it would have been almost impossible for me to find you again. I do not wish to know what would have become of me if that had happened.” 

You could see how the idea alone filled his heart with fear and your own contracted painfully in response. Images of him crying, some memories other imaginary, flashed through your head and you leaned over to press a kiss against his lips to shoo them away. 

“I'm not leaving, not now that I know. I do fear what Ylva may do to me, now that she knows as well, however. She might go for a more direct approach instead of using poison.” 

With a hand against the back of your head, fingers entangled in your locks, he held your cheek against his chest as he ghosted his lips over your crown. “I will not allow her to do anything. When mother hears of this their kingdom will suffer greatly because of Ylva and her brother's actions, and neither of them will be able to harm you. You are safe with me.” 

And you did feel safe, safer than you had ever felt before, yet there was still one thing that bugged you. 

“Please don't punish the entire kingdom – princess Kari has done nothing wrong and the servants suffer enough already. If anything we should help them, maybe keep a strict eye on them or something to make sure everyone is doing all right; and if there really needs to be some kind of retribution then only for those who acted with malicious intent.” 

He chuckled fondly, fingers smoothing through your locks. “Always thinking about others first. There is no doubt that my mother will like you; and not even Odin will be able to think badly of you.” 

“I thought the first thing you were going to tell him was that I called him an arse?” You grinned, but the thought of meeting the king and queen of Asgard seemed even more terrifying than before. How could you stand before them and smile, knowing that you had been intimate with their son? Well, adoptive son, but still. “Are you sure that... that they won't disapprove?” 

You could hear his frown in his voice. “Why would they?” 

“Well... Do you remember when we fought outside the library of Mikill? Our blood is different. I'm still just a healer, a commoner, I was never destined to live in a palace until you invited me to come to Asgard with you. Won't they wish you picked someone else instead? Someone of royal heritage?”

He sat up and you moved back a bit to give him the space to do so, but the arm around your waist held you close. “I do not care what they think, or who they deem more worthy. It is you I care for, not some haughty princess or unintelligent wench who only loves the shimmer of gold.” His anger wasn't aimed at you and so you did not feel threatened by it, yet a bit of relief settled in your stomach when his glance turned tender again. “You are the best thing that has ever come my way, and I am not planning on letting you go anytime soon; damned be those who disapprove.” 

You huffed out a short laugh, feeling your eyes and nose beginning to tingle, but you managed to hold it back and instead wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” 

“If you have any other doubts, share them with me so I can prove them wrong; but for now lets get dressed, shall we?” 

 

But he didn't teleport the two of you back to Yllgard, nor did he return your vanished clothes. Instead, he guided you through a door in the wall parallel to the bed and into a bathroom that once again blew your mind in terms of luxury. The basin at the end of the room was large enough to comfortably seat at least six people, with an endless flow of water falling from an opening in the ceiling and the excess disappearing through a grid that ran along the edge. Left of it, built inside the wall, was a cabinet of which every shelf was filled with vials, jars, and vases, while right hung a rack specifically designed for holding clean, folded towels and offering hooks on which to hang the used ones. 

He held onto your hand as you followed him into the rather cool water, goosebumps running down your arms and your nipples growing taut. His pupils dilated, but he didn't act on his desires; instead he moved to sit behind you and gingerly pushed your shoulders below the surface. With your back towards him you had no sight of what he was doing, but you heard a dull 'thud' of a bottle being opened and a few moments later something dripped onto your head, the feeling of the cool liquid sending a shiver down your spine, before his long fingers began to massage it in. Slowly he worked through your locks, caressing more than actually cleaning your hair, and you closed your eyes at the gentleness of his ministrations. It was calming, soothing, affectionate. It was over too soon for your liking as he cupped water in his hands and thoroughly rinsed it out again; but then again, there were still some things you had to take care of today. But Loki seemed to forget that fact for a moment as his slender hands moved down your neck, your shoulders, sliding underneath your arms to the front and cupping yours breasts as he pressed his chest against your back. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me to contain myself when you sit within my reach like this?” He took your earlobe between his teeth, giving a whole new meaning to your goosebumps. “When I know you are mine to take? When all those different ways I could give you pleasure occupy my thoughts at the mere sight of you?” 

One of his hands crept lower, slender fingers slipping between your folds, and you rested your head back against his shoulder as a whimper left your throat. He took the opportunity to gently bite down in the soft flesh of your neck, his tongue soothing the initial sting as your magic took care of the rest. 

“I fear I might no longer be able to keep my lust at bay as I did before, my love...” 

You moved your bum back, in need of friction, and you could feel his erection press hard against you. Had you unleashed an unquenchable monster? And if so, which one of you was it?  
He moved the fingers of one hand in slow, deliberate circles as the other softly kneaded your breast, and you needingly rubbed your behind against him again, at which he sucked in a sharp breath. You had just as much control over him as he had over you, and that thought alone gave a mischievous undertone of seduction to your voice. 

“Then take me.” 

And he wasted no time. He lifted your hips and pressed himself deep inside of you, groaning against your shoulder, his fingers not ceasing their motion around and over your clit as he sank in all the way to the hilt. He didn't start slow this time but immediately started thrusting with force, causing the water to slosh over the edge and flood the bathroom floor, but neither of you cared. You grabbed a firm hold of his wet hair and kept his mouth against your neck as he pounded the moans from your lungs, hard and violent and _oh so good_. 

“Say my name-” 

“Loki.” 

He lifted a hand to gently push your face towards his, his eyes locking onto yours. “Say it again.” 

He hit your cervix with every deep thrust and your eyes wanted to flutter shut, yet his intense gaze demanded you to keep staring into his eyes. 

“Loki!”

He harshly claimed your mouth as his seed shot through you and your walls clenched tightly around him, only increasing the sensation as he rode out your orgasm, and he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from sliding below the water level as all tension in your muscles faded with every aftershock. 

It took a moment before both of you had found your breath again. 

You cleared your throat and sat back up on your own strength once it had returned, combing your fingers through your hair that had never been as clean before and slipping from his lap. “Well, at least we didn't stain the sheets again.” 

And he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two just can't control themselves, can they? smh  
> Smaller chapter than usual but there are bigger ones coming up uwu
> 
> I might run out of chapters to post in a few weeks time, and as uni starts again soon I won't have as much time to write. This means that the time between updates may become (much) longer, but I'll let you guys know when that point is near ;3
> 
> I've been considering to make a Tumblr blog for Fǫruneyti, on which I will post my own art for the story, other people's fanart, updates, hints at what's to come, music recommendations, headcanons, and answers to any questions you guys may have. Of course there would be the occasional Loki picture as well ;D Would you be interested in a blog like that? Please let me know ^^
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	42. XLII

After actually cleaning yourself up this time with no... _distractions_ in between, you dried yourself off with one of the large towels provided by the rack on the wall. They were just as soft as you had expected them to be, yet that fact was soon forgotten: you glanced over the edge as you moved it over your face. Loki's wet, black hair clung to his defined jaw and neck, droplets running down his thin yet athletic body, and it was nearly unbearable. You had never given him much thought in this way, apart from occasionally noticing you found his face handsome or his confident stride attractive, but now there was truly no way around it anymore.  
You rubbed your face a bit more violently than necessary. You needed to get yourself back under control or the two of you would never leave the bedroom again and starve to death, because quenching this kind of hunger would not keep the two of you alive. 

You followed him through a door you had completely missed even though it was directly next to the towel rack, and your eyes widened ever so slightly - the entire room behind it was dedicated to clothing. It was all for him, of course, suits and armour and casual outfits, but somehow, somewhere at the end, he found a dress; and the look he gave you was so adorable that you had to forcefully keep yourself from kissing him. 

“I had always hoped that one day-” He cleared his throat. “Well, I think you are aware. There is nothing else I can offer you for now, but I hope this will suffice.” 

He handed you the garment and even set a pair of matching shoes at your feet before finding something to wear himself. You held it up for a moment. The fabric was smooth and light, so finely made you couldn't even see the different threads that made it up, and when you pulled it over your head and let it fall till over your ankles it seemed as if it magically adjusted to fit your curves; which might actually be exactly what it did. The black slippers were much the same, forming comfortably around your feet. 

With giddy enthusiasm tingling in your heart you stepped in front of the mirror. The dark green looked good on you, there was no denying it, and the black-and-golden belt accentuated your waist beautifully. The sleeves grew wider and to a transparent black the closer they got to your elbow, where they ended, and tiny golden specks adorned their hems. They reminded you of the ones in your eyes. 

Your gaze moved back up and met your own as you stepped closer. Still, you had seen no one with the peculiar colour adorning their irises, not during your journey and not at the palace of Yllgard, and your doubts started morphing to worry. Could it truly be a symptom of a rare disease? If it was, you could only assume it was a very deadly one. How else could you explain the apparent absence of any fellow sufferers? You should have spent more time looking into it at the libraries you had visited, but you had simply forgotten about it, like one would forget about the colour of one's hair while simultaneously knowing it without interruption. It was information your brain didn't need to think about, so why would it bring it up? If the gold on the dress hadn't reminded you of it, chances were that you wouldn't have thought about it for another few weeks, maybe even months. You might have died before then. How long did you still have to live? 

Wait- stop- no jumping to conclusions. You would look into it and keep from assuming things you had no true foundation for, or you would soon drive yourself mad. 

Suddenly two arms snuck around your waist and you jumped a bit, earning you a mischievous chuckle. “You could have noticed me if you hadn't been so entranced by your own gaze, my lady; though I must say I cannot blame you, as I have more than once found myself in a similar situation.” 

You leaned back against his chest as you found his eyes in the mirror. “Do you know anyone else with eyes like mine? I wonder if the gold is something to worry about, or if it's merely a strange mutation.” 

“The only person I know with golden eyes is Heimdall, but the colour dominates entirely. I do not think it is related, however; unless you can see everything that happens in the nine realms and hear the growing of grass?” He breathed another chuckle into your hair, but you frowned. 

“Can he truly do that? And he has not lost his mind yet?” 

“He could even be listening to this very conversation.” 

You knew he meant that fact to be playful, he way he purred it, with that hint of mischief in his tone; but you felt uneasiness settle inside your stomach like a sharp, unpolished rock. 

“You're merely playing with me.”

It was a weak accusation, but you desperately hoped to be right. If there truly was someone out there, someone who could see and hear everything, then everything that happened today... Your face quickly flushed thinking about it. 

“If he and I had been on better terms I would have offered to take you to him, so you could ask about it yourself.” His smirk faded a bit when he saw the slight anxiety in your eyes, however. “Why does this bother you, my love?” 

Why exactly did it bother you? Sex was only natural and he probably saw it all the time, so what difference did it make? The man probably didn't go running around screaming how you were fucking prince Loki, so there was no need to be embarrassed, right? But if they weren't on good terms, could he use it against him? Your head was beginning to hurt from over-thinking again. Loki tightened his embrace and buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, lips brushing soothingly over your skin. 

“There's nothing to worry about. He resides at the end of the Bifrost bridge and rarely ever speaks to anyone, though I assume my mother may ask about the wellbeing of her sons every now and then.” 

A bit of the worry died down and your breath spilled quietly from your lungs. “Would he tell her about me? About us?” 

“If she asks about it he will answer truthfully, but it does not matter. When our business in Yllgard is done I will take you to meet her.” 

 

 

After giving you some underwear to slip on underneath your dress – only after a few minutes of nagging on your part and teasing on his – he teleported the two of you back to your room in Yllgard and waited for you to stuff some herbs into your mouth before he offered you his arm; and, after a deep and slightly shaking breath, you took it. The glance he gave you was so loving and proud that it grounded you, that it even made you blush. He was going to show you off to anyone who had working eyes, wasn't he? He was going to show them that you were his and that he was yours, that you were more than simply pleasant company or even a friend to him, and that the title 'healer' now stood beside 'lover'. It sent warmth rushing through your body. Yes, you were nervous to step outside those massive, white-metal doors, and yes, you were a bit fearful of how everyone would react, but at the same time you were confident – because you stood beside the man you loved. 

It was time to confront Ylva. 

He guided you through the hallways and to the doors leading to the Throne Room. You knew there was royalty inside as there were guards on either side of the entrance, and so Loki did not hesitate for a second when letting his magic swing open the doors before they had even had a chance to reach out. 

All heads snapped your way in surprise as the conversation was cut off. The entire Royal family sat on their seats atop the stairs and a very strained-looking Thor stood below, accompanied by Brant and Rangvaldr. Their eyes shifted between you and Loki as the two of you approached, standing as if frozen; and no one uttered a word. 

Then the king stood. 

“Explain yourself, Loki of Asgard.” 

The smirking prince didn't even flinch at the harshness of the man's voice. “Oh but I think your eldest daughter is the one who needs to do the explaining. Isn't that right, Ylva?” 

His stance was playful, but there was an edge to his voice that reminded you and everyone else in the room of how dangerous Loki could be. Possibly only Thor knew the true extent of Loki's powers, both magical and physical, or maybe there were still many things he kept to himself, but no one doubted that he was not to be messed with. It was almost thrilling to stand at his side. Your hand still rested in the crook of his arm, smooth leather beneath your fingers, and it felt as if some of his fearlessness channeled from his body into yours.

The king frowned and glanced at his daughter, who spoke before he could. “I do not know what it is you dare accuse me of.” Her whole face was red with anger, eyes filled with rage, and of course she shot you a glare that was meant to kill you if she had had that power. You didn't even do as much as blink. 

The prince's lips curled up but you could feel his magic rush around you like a hurricane, his rage far greater than Ylva's. “I think you know exactly what it is I am accusing you of.” He met his brother's gaze for the first time since the two of you had entered and aimed his next words more at him than at those on top of the stairs. 

“She attempted to assassinate our healer multiple times, all with the use of poison. Not a very intelligent attempt,” he added with an amused grin and a sideways glance, “seeing as she handles poison almost daily and has a high resistance against them.” 

Thor's eyes weren't the only ones growing wide, but he was the first who managed to quickly push himself over the initial shock. He knew what his brother was getting at and turned to face the king. “If that is true, it would be considered a high form of treason.” 

Ylva abruptly stood. “You have no proof!” 

“Is the word of our trusted healer not enough?” There was venom in Loki's voice now, and you could see how it caught her off-guard. But the king finally entered the conversation again. 

“Is her word the only proof you have?” He motioned for his daughter to sit back down. “How should you expect us to believe her, when she is obviously more to you than your healer? I believe you came here to marry my daughter. She has compromised the ceremony, and I do not believe your father will think lightly of this when he hears of it; especially when you accuse Ylva without presenting any evidence but the word of the very woman who has jeopardised this bond between our kingdoms. If it is the truth you speak and evidence can be presented, then you have my word that justice will follow.” 

You cleared your throat, causing everyone to look your way. It was hard to keep your hand from trembling yet you refused to lower your gaze or to let your voice waver. “If you'll allow me to speak, your Highness, there are others who know of your daughter's attempts at taking my life.” You felt Loki shift ever so slightly in surprise but paid him no attention and continued: 

“I didn't feel quite all right this morning, so the food brought to me was more than I could possibly eat by myself and I decided to share it with the maid. But one or possibly more of the fruits were poisoned. The maid had the misfortune of eating one of said fruits before I had had the opportunity to do so, and it was only because of the herbs I happened to have in my room that she survived.” 

Ylva grew even paler than she had already been, making her skin look sickly white like that of a corpse come back to life. You weren't done talking yet, however. “Then, at the ball this morning, a man distracted me and something was slipped into my drink. Luckily my resistance took care of it and prince Loki saved me before prince Erlend could have his way with me, as he had stated not too subtly; and though I am not sure whether anyone has seen the poisoning there have been many witnesses to your son's behaviour.” Now all the colour left the foreign prince's face as well.

“A few days ago, a vial of which the contents had been swapped with a reactive acid stood on the rim of the basin in the bathroom of my chambers, which would have burned my skin off my bones if I had mistaken it for bathing oils. You can still see the effect it had on the marble floor.” Loki stiffened at this new information, but you continued. “And yesterday's lunch, which was brought to my room, smelled very much like poison as well.” 

Ylva shot out of her white-marble throne again, hands balled into fists and held tightly against her sides. “Liar! I didn't poison it yesterday afternoon, I was at the stables-” 

That is when she noticed the glint in your eyes, and as her mistake dawned on her she slowly sank back down, eyes wide in horror. 

“So you confess to having poisoned my food and drink on the other occasions.” It was more of a statement than a question, as everyone had heard her loud and clear, and you felt your heart swell contently at the smoothness of your verbal ambush. If Loki felt like this every time someone fell for his traps, then it was no wonder he had taken up the life of a trickster. By the realms it was hard to keep yourself from grinning. 

The king shot his daughter a menacing look, his voice booming as he scolded her, and the prince at your side took this time to turn to you. He was grinning so wide that any attempts to hold back your own were futile, giddiness rushing through your veins like toxins. He leaned closer and brushed his lips past your ear as he spoke: 

“By Yggdrasil, you truly are the woman of my dreams; you do not know how desperately I want to take you to my room right this instant.” He all but growled it, deep and lustful, and a shiver ran down your back. 

He returned to his casual stance and tamed his toothy grin to a broad smile, tightly pressing his lips together to keep his teeth from showing again, yet the pride he felt did not leave his eyes. The fact that you had impressed the infamous Trickster himself was a great boost to your ego - you just hoped your confidence wouldn't be your downfall someday. 

Ylva was now blubbering incoherent sentences through her tears, fingers held like claws in front of her stained cheeks, and suddenly she looked so much younger. You felt a spark of pity within your chest. She had the mentality of a child, claiming all she could see and throwing a tantrum when she couldn't have it, yet who could blame children for their thoughtless actions? Your eyes shifted to her parents. Her father stood with chest puffed up in anger, red blotches on his face, and her mother just sat on her throne while she coldly stared into nothingness, as if she didn't care or had never truly cared about anything at all. Nurture played a big part in the development, and yet... Your glance moved to Kari, who sent you a smile as she tried to hide the concern and fear in her eyes. She was smart enough to realise that this could mean the downfall of Yllgard, of her home, of her entire family. 

Loki seemed to have noticed it as well, or had noticed your grip on his arm tightening ever so slightly, and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention again. 

“King Brynjar, I assume you know the penalty for high treason against the All-father?” The man sat down with a defeated huff yet spoke not, so the raven-haired prince continued, rather pleased with the power and undivided attention: “However, Lady ___ has asked of me to grant you mercy. Seeing as she is the victim her say in the matter is significant, not to mention that her reasons behind her decision were based on logic and objective thought, and I am certain I will be able to convince Odin the same way she has convinced me.” He shot you a tender glance, and you couldn't help the blush. 

“Your punishment shall be moderated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys, princess Harpy/Bitch won't be burned at the stake nor beheaded and devoured by some ungodly beast - she has been granted mercy. Her entire family has been granted mercy; which is good news for Kari and the servants, so at least there is a silver lining!
> 
> A couple of you were interested in the Tumblr blog for Fǫruneyti and so I set out and made the most basic blog ever, because I suck at anything that has to do with technology, coding, or anything else that requires thinking too much. I will do some research on how to make it look a little bit better, but for now it is ready to be used! Go throw your most burning questions and loveliest headcanons at my ask box and I might respond to some of them with sketches :D You can send in your song recommendations, fanart, theories, and anything else you would like to say. I will welcome you with open arms and a warm smile! ♡ 
> 
> https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> I might post hints of what is to come in the next chapters there, and I will keep you updated on which chapters I have finished writing. 
> 
> Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter and I'd love to hear what you think ^^
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and as always, comments, kudos, and fanarts are very much appreciated!


	43. END BOOK I

King Brynjar, princess Kari, and prince Erlend let out a relieved sigh, Ylva kept sniveling, and the queen kept as still and unmoving as she had been since the two of you had come in. The courting ceremony was officially ended with some traditional formalities, your departure was announced, and together with the Asgardian princes and their two men you left the room. 

Only when the gigantic doors had been shut completely behind you did you dare to shoot a glance at the golden-haired Thor – but his expression was not as you had expected it to be. 

Within moments he had caught you in a tight hug, his booming laugh resonating through your chest and echoing down the massive hallways, and when he pulled away his grin was so bright and joyful that you could do nothing but silently stare at him. He gave your shoulder two strong pats that were almost painful before trapping his brother in a similar enveloping hug. 

“That's quite enough, brother-” Loki huffed with audible difficulty, but his smile was wide and his voice amused with no true irritation to it. 

With another laugh the man finally let go. “I had hoped it would come to this! It makes me happy that you've finally found someone, Loki, and I can only imagine everyone's faces back at the palace.” He turned to you now, eyes scrunched up in mirth and smile beaming like he was the sun itself. “We will have to celebrate this. We will find the nearest tavern and feast!” 

But his brother's shoulders dropped ever so slightly. “I'm afraid I will have to stay here a little while longer. I will teleport between here and Asgard, to discuss the punishment with the All-father, and to make sure the servants go unharmed until and after the verdict has been given.” 

You turned to Loki, and your heart contracted painfully. “Wait, you're not coming? How long do you think you will be held up?” But he cast you a reassuring smile. 

“I won't be long, worry not. Take Egil as your steed until I return, I trust you to take good care of him and for him to take care of you in turn.” 

“But-” 

He silenced your protests with a tender kiss and you could almost feel Thor's grin brighten even further. “I will make sure this will be taken care of swiftly, you have my word.” 

And, in the blink of an eye, he was gone, so you slowly turned towards the three men with embarrassment swirling in your stomach after the public display of affection. Thor didn't mind in the slightest, of course, but it wasn't his gaze your eyes found first – it was Brant's. You hadn't known what to expect. That time you had visited the men in the Soldier's Wing was still fresh in your memory, as were the things they – the things _he_ had said. 

_She deserves much better. It is best for everyone if Loki marries soon and moves out of Asgard._

It had hurt. It had felt like verbal betrayal of a friend who should be comforting you, not indirectly scolding you. But as you looked him in his eyes his gaze betrayed nothing, not a single hint at his thoughts or feelings towards the matter and not a single hint that told you whether he even cared at all. Was he your friend? Had you burned that bridge when you had ignored his advice? You glanced at Rangvaldr, to see if he disapproved, but he only gave you a warm smile and an acknowledging nod. His opinion of you had not dropped as far as you could tell, so that was some kind of relief. At least you still had one soldier on your side. 

The four of you split up, everyone heading towards their rooms to gather their belongings and make themselves ready for departure. You had already packed, however, so once you reached your chambers you changed into your riding gear, swung your bag over your shoulder, added the two dresses, grabbed the folded cape from the foot end of the bed, and left to find the first servant you came across. 

 

You were lucky this time. Only a few hallways later you found a maid who quickly guided you through the palace, further and further down the corridors and eventually down some stairs, until she stopped in front of a battered door and gave it two short knocks. 

“Audhild, there's someone here to see you.” 

After a few moments the door opened and the servant whose name you didn't know left, allowing you and the young maid some privacy. Her eyes grew wide. 

“I-is something wrong miss? Do you need somewhere to hide?” 

You couldn't help the laugh escaping your lungs, but quickly softened your smile to a kind one when you saw her face contort in confusion. “No, no, nothing of the sort! The one who tried to poison me will be dealt with.” 

Her face brightened. “I'm so glad! But then if you don't need my services, may I ask what has brought you down to the servant's quarters?” 

“I wanted to see how you were doing, and I'm... I'm coming to say goodbye.” 

The smile on her face twitched, growing uncertain, until it faded. 

“Oh.” 

It was all she said, eyes glazing over a bit, and a sting of sadness pierced your chest. You didn't want to leave her in these horrible conditions, serving these horrible people, eating these horrible things and gossiping over horrible subjects. But you had no choice. 

“I will do everything in my power to make this life more bearable for you, for all of you, okay? I might even come and visit sometimes, if the fates let me.” With Loki's power of teleportation, surely that wouldn't be too much trouble? 

“Please know that we're all very grateful for what you did for us, miss. Even if you don't visit, your name will be remembered, and we will pass on the knowledge that you have given us.” She bowed her head in respect, but the formality only made your heart contract further. 

Your body moved without thinking and before you knew it you had wrapped your arms around her and held her tight. She did the same, her arms encircling your waist as she buried her face in the rough fabric of your shirt, but she didn't cry – and neither did you. This wasn't the end, it was merely the beginning of a new chapter, you were sure of it.

After a while the both of you let go, and you sent her a last, warm smile. 

“Stay safe.” 

“I will, miss. Thank you.” 

And she quietly shut the door behind you as you turned and walked away. 

 

You stood in front of your chamber doors, waiting for Thor and his men to come and get you, but you were still in doubt. You wanted to say goodbye to princess Kari as well. The three of you had had so much fun beneath the canopy of the weeping willow, eating and drinking and conversing and laughing; but you didn't dare look for her and find Ylva or Erlend instead, fearing what they might try now that Loki was away. Sure, your dagger was safely pressed against your hip and hidden beneath your shirt, and you were pretty sure your fighting skills hadn't fully disappeared even though you had stopped training with Audun every morning, not to mention there was still your magic; but you simply didn't want to risk it. Physically harming them was by no means something you looked forward to. 

Yet your brain didn't have to hurt much longer: a woman clad in orange sped towards you and a broad smile appeared on your face. 

“Kari!” 

She caught you in a hug before stepping back and sending you a beaming smile of her own. “I told you so.” 

This took you aback, and you frowned. “Told me what?” 

“Prince Loki was totally checking you out at the first ball.” Her grin widened even further, until she theatrically morphed it to a faux-offended pout. “And you told me you had no interest in him!” 

You rubbed your hand over your arm and huffed out a short laugh. “I might have lied.”

She waved your embarrassment away with a single movement of her hand. “I knew the two of you had an eye for each other, I mean, he was basically flirting with you the entire dancing lesson and even during the picnic afterwards. You should have seen him glancing at you when you weren't looking.” She sighed as if remembering a nostalgic event in the past, even though it had only been yesterday. “So romantic.” 

Your heart fluttered at the information she had given you, but you pushed it away for now. You could tease him with it as soon as he returned. 

“I'm going to miss you.” 

“I'm going to miss you too.” Her smile grew a bit sad, yet hope quickly took over in her eyes. “But prince Loki can move by magic, can he not? If he can teleport an entire platter of fruit then surely he can teleport you here, so you can come and visit me every once in a while! We should have a picnic again sometime soon.” 

“I would absolutely love that.” 

Thor and his entire party came striding towards the two of you, so the princess enveloped you in another quick hug. 

Her gaze turned serious for a moment. “Thank you for showing us mercy. I still have hope that my family can change for the better, and that this place may one day rise from this constant darkness that seems to loom here. This might be a step in the right direction.” 

“Is it bad for me to hope that it will be you who ends up ruling over Yllgard?” 

She snickered, though her eyes stood sorrowful. “I would look quite good on a throne, wouldn't I?” The two of you moved your attention to the approaching men for a moment. It wouldn't be long before they reached you. “Come visit me soon, all right?” 

“I promise.” 

 

The sun was already low on the horizon, its light dissipating, and a soft breeze announced the slow cooling of the air; yet you knew the night would stay warm. With the help of Thor you managed to saddle Egil. It was obvious that all the soldiers already knew about you and Loki, as everyone cast sideway glances in your direction, but you were surprised to notice it didn't affect you as much as you had expected it to even though you could feel how everyone was waiting for an opportunity to speak to you. Thor wanted to leave rather quickly, and whether that was out of concern for you or in prospect of the feast he had promised you and his men, you didn't know - but you were grateful nonetheless. 

More soldiers joined the party. Amongst them were two other healers, easy to spot with their heavy bags that rattled with jars and bottles, and you guessed the youngest of them to be the older one's student. You made a mental note to talk to them later. 

You didn't like the glances the Yllgardian soldiers shot you, though. Yes, you were the only woman in the entire party, but not even once had Thor's men tried anything or even given you an inappropriate smile, and neither was it a valid reason for the newcomers to make lewd comments in hushed voices, making sure you were the only one to hear them. Yet the corners of your lips curled up ever so lightly. They would keep their mouths firmly shut once Loki returned, and if one of them tried anything before that you would make sure no one else would dare to even step close. Your hand rested securely on your hip, feeling the dagger underneath the rough fabric. 

Thor beckoned you to join him at his side, much to the foreign men's surprise, and your tiny smirk became a warm smile as you rode up to him. 

“What's the plan?” 

“We will ride to Mestr and spend the night at their most luxurious inn, and of course we will quench our thirst at the tavern!” 

With 'quencing their thirst' it was obvious he meant 'drinking alcohol until none are left sober', the large grin only confirming it, and even though you didn't think yourself to be one for large parties his enthusiasm made you look forward to it. 

“Shouldn't we wait for Loki to join us? Especially if you're drinking to the two of us.”

“Though my brother loves the occasional feast he is not one to spend much time with my men, as you know, and sadly my men aren't very fond of Loki either. Of course it may not keep him from joining us tonight.” He brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of his face before stroking the same hand over his well-kept beard. “I'm not sure how long the verdict will take, or if there will be intermissions, but I suspect that he will fully join us again before the end of the week.” You nodded, and he reached out to give you a gentle and reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I know he'll come visit before that.”

The group began moving. As you rode down the many streets you caught a glimpse of Brant's face every now and then, yet always his expression stood either focused or neutral and not once did he look your way. You could only hope that the joining of his sister would bring you closer again. Nevertheless, your mind was relatively at peace: no more fear of destroying your friendship with Loki, no more fear of Ylva, and no more fear of the strange man whose presence you hadn't felt in days – and, even if he was still somewhere around, there was no way he could get past the entire party of well-trained soldiers. 

You were safe, you were loved, and you couldn't wait to tell your parents of the things you had discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry my lovely readers, this is still far from the end! There's the road to be traveled back, the stranger who will make his move, new friends to be made, parents to be reunited with, parents to meet for the first time, a new palace to be explored! Or perhaps not all of those things will come true... But it is certainly not the end. 
> 
> Updating schedule will remain the same for the time being! Every other day, every even number of the dates. The blog still feels a little empty, so please send in asks and headcanons, song recs and theories, and anything else you can possibly think of! Questions and headcanons may be answered with art ♡ And you don't have to have an account to send an ask! :D  
> https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	44. THE BEGINNING OF BOOK II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new beginning.

“To your health!” 

Thor's voice boomed through the massive tavern, his tankard of ale held high, and everyone in the room, whether they were part of the party or not, rose their voices in a loud 'aye!'. 

“And to your happiness!” 

Another deafening wave of agreement, everyone's eyes scrunched up in mirth and grins wide and beaming and aimed at you. The music started, loud and joyful, and everyone drank the alcohol like it was water; men danced on the tables while others banged their fists to the music as they sang along, ale spilling from their mugs as they swung them through the air and clanked them together. It truly was a sight to behold. 

You drank away any worries that had been left, filled your stomach, partied like Thor, and laughed until your throat began to hurt and your cheeks were strained and tense. You danced with all of Thor's men – twice with Stigr and possibly three times with Jari – with the exception of Brant, yet by the end of the night there was still no sign of Loki. It was well past midnight before the boisterous edge had smoothened and actual conversations were possible. Thor came to sit next to you, offering you another drink. You took it. 

“I suspected him to have feelings for you, you know,” he began, then took a big swig and banged the tankard down on the wooden table. “I hoped it was requited, but I wasn't fully certain yet. You're a bit harder to read than my brother.” 

You laughed. “I am the one that is hard to read? I think it might be the fact that you have known him since childhood, but I don't think anyone else would agree with that statement.” 

“Maybe you're right,” he waved it off like swatting away a fly, the alcohol in his blood taking away a bit of the control he had over his movements. “But still.” 

“Since when did you start suspecting him, though?” 

He thought for a moment. “I think it was subconscious rather than conscious, and I cannot pin it to an exact moment. It was more... more of an enumeration of events. You made him laugh, he helped you, taught you magic, he dared to be vulnerable around you – which is remarkable, may I add – and of course he was constantly flirting with you.”

Your stomach twisted and your heart fluttered. His teasing had been flirting after all, then. Had you truly been that blind to his affections? Thor continued before you could respond however, and his eyes stood so warm and grateful that it made your heart swell even further. 

“I cannot thank you enough. It pains me to admit that I had given up hope, that for a while I thought him lost to the darkness that still haunts him; and I believe him to have been convinced of the same. I am glad that has changed. Not everyone will approve of your relationship, simply because they do not see the good in him like we do, yet you will always be welcome at Asgard. It is your home now, too.”

Your mind went back to Brant for a second until you swiftly pushed those thoughts away again, and gave the large, slightly inebriated man next to you a smile to match his gaze. “If it hadn't been for your offer, none of this might have happened. I am not the only one you should thank.” You gave him a wink as you took a sip of your drink, eliciting a thunderous laugh from his broad chest. 

“Your grace and wits flatter you, my lady. I do not believe my brother could have picked a better woman to wed!” 

You choked, the liquid being sucked into your trachea and ending up in your wildly protesting lungs. You tried to force it out again by hitting your sternum with your fist until you could breathe. It took a few seconds before you had your intake of air back under control, yet your eyes stood wide. 

“I-I'm not- he's not- he hasn't asked me to marry him-” 

But Thor only laughed louder, like a roaring bear, hitting you on the back with such force it got the residue of ale out of your lungs. “Then I will suggest him to do it soon!” 

“W-wait-” 

But the golden-haired prince stood and went to loudly converse with some of the soldiers from Yllgard, leaving you to ponder your relationship and your future as you stared at the amber sloshing inside your tankard. 

You had known Loki for a month and only today had you found out that he returned your feelings – wasn't it far too soon to think about something like a marriage? The idea of spending the rest of your life with him truly sounded like a dream come true, but what if he decided you weren't what he needed after all? What if he found someone more suitable to stand at his side? Because marrying him would mean becoming royalty, a princess to be exact, and you were more than certain that you did not qualify for such a title. What if marriage between a commoner and a prince wasn't even permitted? If you were allowed to stay at his side as his lover, then you should just be content with that – and you would be. 

And what did marriage do, anyway? The only difference it made was that you would both wear a ring, and that you could call him your husband and he could call you his wife.

Your heart tingled.

No, no you were not going to admit how you liked the sound of that. This wasn't some kind of romance novel where you found your soulmate or had some kind of mating bond and married mere weeks after meeting him, for Yggdrasil's sake! This was real life, where people took it slow, waited, gave each other the time to adjust or to change their minds-

“Can I sit here?” 

You looked up, shaken from your internal turmoil, only to add surprise to the mix when you saw Brant standing next to you. You nodded weakly. After he had taken a seat he met your gaze, and sent you an apologetic smile. 

“I'm sorry for not talking to you sooner, I... needed a little while to sort out my thoughts.” 

You didn't respond, mainly because you had no idea what you could possibly say and a bit because his sudden directness had you lost for words, so you could only wait for him to continue. 

“I must admit, I hadn't thought it to end up this way.” He averted his eyes for a moment. You sought for the disgust in his voice, sought for the disapproval, but it wasn't there - and when he returned his gaze to yours you could see the deep relief within it. “But I'm glad it did. The way he stood by your side when you came to confront Ylva, the look in his eyes when you tricked her into confessing; it convinced me that he truly cares for you. I was just a bit fearful that he would hurt you, that you would end up like Dagny, and I felt angry when you entered through those doors with him clad in his colours – angry at myself, for not being able to protect you.” 

He took a long sip from his drink as he tried to find the right words, his brows knitted together in a thoughtful frown. 

“I needed some time to think. I revisited all my memories of the last month, all the things you had told me, and eventually came to the conclusion that he truly is nothing like the man who hurt my sister. If you trust him, then I shall trust him as well.” 

You turned in your seat and wrapped your arms around the soldier without as much as a warning, pressing your cheek against the fine fabric of his shirt. He returned the embrace twice as tight. 

“I'm sorry for acting like a dick.” 

You chuckled. “Apology accepted.” 

 

 

When Brant left to refill his cider, Thor's other men quickly found their way to your table. First they all spoke without giving the other the time to finish, resulting in a cacophony of voices, and you wondered how much alcohol they had had tonight - but after a while they found order. Jari was, as always, one of the first to speak. 

“Is it true, miss? Are you and prince Loki betrothed?”

“N-no! No, that's not- I mean-” You cleared your throat and tried again. “Not like _that_.” 

“But you are in love with him?” 

You nodded. Their eyes were wide, some mouths hung open, but there was no disgust on their faces – merely disbelief and awe; and when Trygve spoke there was even respect in his voice. 

“You truly are a force of nature, miss. Taming the Black Horrorhorse, curing Brant's sister, having the Dark Prince fall for you; it's almost scary how powerful you are.” 

You laughed, loudly and genuinely, and wiped the tear from the corner of your eye. Dark Prince? You were never going to let Loki hear the end of that one. “Thank you, I think?” 

Rangvaldr spoke up, an amused smile on his lips. “I am rather sure it has more to do with a kind and stubborn soul than actual power; though, of course, that is a very powerful thing on its own.” 

The men nodded thoughtfully, humming in agreement, and another giggle escaped your throat. 

 

The rest of the night was spent joking around and conversing, until even the musicians had no energy left to continue and the clinking of tankards was the only thing left beside the voices. It wouldn't be long before sunrise, yet there was still no raven-haired prince to be seen. One by one the men left in search of their temporary chambers, until only you, Thor, and two men who had guard duty were left; and when the crown prince decided to seek out his bed as well you followed him to your shared room – this time not because there were no other rooms left, but to offer protection from anyone who might want to hurt Loki's consort.

The next morning, well, nearing noon, after breakfast had been had and the horses had been saddled, you began to repress your hope. He was busy, and because of you there had to be negotiations in the first place, so it was only fair if you showed some patience, right? And yet you had yearned for his arms around you at night, had longed for him to kiss you good morning and for his eyes to be the first thing you saw when you awoke. You were so deeply in love, the Gods knew you had been for quite some time now, and now that you knew he felt the same you couldn't even be close to him; it was almost unfair. 

But you kept your frustration behind a solid wall during the ride from the city of Yllgard to Mestr and instead forced yourself to focus on other things, such as picking up Brant's sister. You hoped she would come and leave her past behind, but you weren't sure she would do it; it was sometimes hard to let go of the things you were familiar with and to exchange it for the unknown. 

The party stopped in front of the house, and the fact that the curtains were drawn back brought a smile to your face. 

Brant entered. Everyone waited. 

And he returned with Dagny at his side, smiling as wide as he had the day you had healed his sister's womb. 

She returned everyone's smiles with a shy one of her own as she nervously clutched her luggage, and as soon as she noticed you her face brightened even further. When Brant took over her bags and announced she could choose between riding with you or riding with Thor she quickly moved over to you, very deliberately not glancing in the golden prince's direction, and allowed you to help her up. You hid your smile behind one hand and shot Thor a triumphant look, but he only grinned and answered it with a defeated shrug, because he couldn't blame her – or you, for that matter. 

She sat down behind you, placed her hands on your waist, and thanked you profusely. 

Once the party began moving, it quickly became clear she hadn't been on a horse for quite some time: her fingers dug into the skin of your hips and still she was shaking, never uttering a single word. Or maybe it was the future that frightened her. To try and calm her down you began telling her a few stories related to your profession - she had shown her interest in the subject the first time the two of you had talked, so surely they would still interest her now, right? You told a tale about an old man who came back multiple times a year with one or more fish hooks through either his fingers or his knuckles, one about a boy who had shot an arrow through his own foot, and one about a woman who had fought off a bear to protect her horse, her battle earning her four deep cuts running along her thigh. 

You could feel her widened eyes on your back as she asked: “Did she survive?” 

“She did!” 

Because you weren't going to tell her tales without a happy ending. There had been a few cases, of course; back when you hadn't had the stamina you had right now, when you hadn't had your magic fully under control yet, or simply when the patients had lost too much blood or had been too far gone for you or your parents to save them. You remembered every single one. Every life that had slipped through your fingers, every person that you hadn't been able to heal, every _mistake_. And you remembered the nightmares in which they had haunted you, over and over and over again. The life fading from their eyes, their heartbeats disappearing, their skin turning colder, and all the disgusting and degrading things that accompanied death; repeating themselves in front of your eyes both during the day and during the night.  
'The healer's curse' is what Medhea had called it once.  
She had told you how it was easier to take a life than to fail saving one: taking a life was done deliberately, whereas seeing someone die, someone you might have been able to heal, someone you might have cared for – you would never get used to it. 

But eventually you had stopped waking up in the middle of the night, tears mixed with cold sweat, the sheets tangled around your legs as if to keep you from escaping. You now knew that it wasn't your fault, that you were not responsible for their deaths – their attackers were, their injuries, or their illnesses. Not you. You were the one that had tried to save them.  
It had been difficult to let go of the thought that they would still be alive if only you had been more powerful, more competent, more _everything_ ; and a part of it would always linger, but you used it to fuel your hunger for knowledge. The more you learned, the more people you would be able to save, and the less death you would have to see. It was rather selfish, maybe. 

“Hey, are you all right?” 

You jumped a bit and quickly pushed the thoughts away. “I am! I am, I just... My thoughts took over for a moment.” 

“May I be so bold as to ask what you were thinking about?” 

Your plan to calm her down had worked; she was no longer trembling and her hold on your hips was gentler, and you wanted to keep it that way. Death was not a very reassuring subject, after all. 

“Nothing too interesting, I'm afraid. I was merely wondering when prince Loki would join us again.” Not a lie, just a partial truth. His return was constantly on your mind no matter how badly you tried not to think of it. “You would probably have to ride with Thor when he returns, seeing as Egil is his horse.” You gave the black steed a soft pat, earning you a content nicker. 

She was silent for a moment, then spoke in hushed tones. It were words you had expected to hear somewhere during the ride. “My brother has told me a couple of things about him. Are you awaiting his return with fear? Should we even be riding his horse?” 

“Well...” You let out a huff of embarrassed laughter. “Not quite. We are most certainly allowed to ride his horse, and there's absolutely no need to fear him. I'm... I'm actually rather impatient for him to come back.” 

You heard the fond chuckle coming from the crown prince riding in front of you and your cheeks gained a bit of extra colour. It was silly to think that something so ordinary could make you blush, that saying things like that out loud could make your heart flutter. 

You heard her hesitate to speak. She would easily come to the right conclusion, you were sure of it, and there was no doubt she would have some questions. It was likely that you would have to explain yourself to everyone who had heard of Loki's reputation. Would it change what people thought of him? Would they start treating him better, send him less spiteful glances, use a lighter tone when they spoke of him? You would answer a million questions of a million Asgardians if that was what it took. 

“You are in love with him, then?” 

A smile spread on your lips. 

“Very much so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the start of the second story arc!  
> I'm on a short holiday in the woods so I might not have wifi all the time. I think I can keep the uploading schedule as it is, though the times on which a new chapter is uploaded may vary. Responses on the blog (especially with art) may be a bit delayed as well, but not more than 7 days! 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	45. XLV

Your heart hummed at your words. You were allowed to say it, allowed to say that you were in love with the raven-haired prince – the prince made of galaxies and starlight, darkness and colour, warmth and cold. The prince with his slender yet toned body, every pale curve another hint at the chorded muscles beneath; with the green-blue eyes that spoke of unimaginable intelligence and power; whose presence was coated in magic and mischief. The prince who had teased you – flirted with you. The prince who loved you back.  
You wanted to roar it from the rooftops, sprout wings and soar to the sky to announce it to the realms, to anyone who could hear. You wanted the entire universe to know that he was yours, and that you were his. 

And yet... 

A part of you wanted to keep it secret – keep him all to yourself. Who knew how many women would come to see his value now that everyone could see that yes, he was most certainly capable of feeling love? You wanted to keep him hidden, lest prettier ladies came searching for him. Lest they came to take him away. A pang of jealousy, sadness, fear. No- stop that. You would have none of it. He was yours to kiss, yours to love – for now, for who knew how long – and you were not going to let anxiety swallow you as you feared he may one day find someone better. If that day should come, you would deal with it then. If it ever did come.  
You didn't hope it would. 

After your 'confession' Dagny had fallen silent in contemplating shock. You started a steady flow of stories and kept it going, giving the soldiers who flanked you the opportunity to offer their own as well, and the rest of the day slid by with the sun crawling to the other side of the heavens. The party stopped and dismounted once, to allow everyone to stretch their muscles and fill their stomachs, before getting back on and continuing down the road leading to Mikill. When silence fell together with the darkness of the night, you let your magic, your consciousness, flow outward to detect any danger before it might be too late, yet it didn't keep the longing nor the thoughts at bay. You longed for more than simply Loki's presence, you noticed. 

You longed for Blacktree. For home. 

For Medhea and Illasias, for the little shop at the edge of the village and close to the forest line. For the mountains that you knew by heart, the woods you could traverse with your eyes closed if need be; longed for the familiar faces of the villagers and the sounds of familiar birds that did not sing in Mestr, did not sing in Mikill.  
Your hand traveled to the satchel hanging on your side. You would show them all the new things you had learned, the foreign herbs you had bought, the drawings you had made in the library. You would show them your dresses and, though with an ironic and maybe slightly defeated tone, admit that Med's hopeful wish had come true – that you had indeed fallen for one of the princes. Though probably not the one they had expected you to fall for. 

Your heart fluttered both with anticipation and apprehension at the thought of introducing them to each other, properly this time. The image of them hugging an awkward Loki, _your_ awkward Loki, it made you grin and beam and glow like a lantern on a winter solstice night. And the thought of spending said festival – and every other festival for that matter - together only fueled your happiness, your longing. But of course the apprehension was not something that could simply be pushed away, of course - it reminded you that they could very well disapprove. You didn't think they would, but who knew what rumours they would have heard; they would no doubt have gone searching for information about those who would accompany you for such a lengthy period of time. Overprotective bastards. By the realms, you loved them.  
But you also knew they would trust your judgment – your heart – if you told them that he was nothing like the tales. They would hear your words rang true. They would know how deeply you felt for him. And how would they be able to disapprove of something you would defend with your honour and your life? No, they would understand, you told the apprehension; you told it they would never love you less for it – and the feeling recoiled, vanished. 

 

The first night sleeping underneath the bare universe you showed Dagny how to make a mattress out of moss to stay comfortable during the night, which wood to use for a fire and how to light it, and finally how to cook the stray chicken they had found wandering somewhere down the road. No one seemed to really care that it must have escaped from its coop and have wandered away from its owner, and so dinner was quickly found, fresh, and delicious. 

The second night you refreshed her memories of the basics of self-defense and trained a bit with her before Trygve announced that the food was ready, then continued after dinner until her body lacked the energy to go on. It wasn't only these little things you were training with her, however. Without her knowing it you were training her stamina. After spending days and days bed-bound her body had lost it, had forgotten how to endure long days, and she would need it back if she were to stand a chance in a fight. 

Because there was the possibility that the enemy that had attacked you with poisoned arrows before would do so again. 

The third night you gave her your dagger to defend herself with during your training. She hadn't been comfortable with it in the beginning, the look in her eyes telling you that she was afraid to accidentally cut you, but you had assured her that it didn't matter. Of course, you would try to avoid her knife in the first place, like most attackers would – and if she _did_ manage to cut or stab you, you could always heal yourself. She hadn't looked too convinced.

But, after a while of taking it slow, she managed to push herself over that mental barrier and the real training began, in which you tried your best to work her to the ground and in which she did everything in her power to stop you from succeeding. It did indeed earn you a few cuts and, in the last try, a shallow stab wound in your arm. She hadn't even noticed what she had done until you had managed to work her to the ground and called a timeout to heal yourself, and for a moment it looked as if she was going to burst into tears and apologise to you until the end of time - but you just rolled up your sleeve and healed the injury in mere seconds, making sure she saw it; and she watched in awestruck realisation. She didn't apologise again for the rest of the night. 

The training wasn't only for her, however. You had never attacked someone, and you knew that one day you might not have a choice; so you tried to grow familiar with the quick calculating of someone's actions and the even faster responses you needed to execute to avoid the knife from sinking into your flesh. Sure, it wasn't really the best way of training, as Dagny was defending herself and not fighting back with the intent to hurt you, but it would do. For now. 

 

After a last quick gallop through the pouring rain, the walls of Mikill finally came into sight; and not thirty minutes later everyone was taking off their armour and their water-filled boots inside one of the more elaborate inns of the city. Apparently, part of the deal regarding the voyage to the palace of Yllgard had entailed that luxury had been as good as forbidden, to show how they volunteered to 'suffer' for Ylva's hand in marriage, and you snorted as soon as that information had left Brant's lips.

“Being married to Ylva would have been torture enough.” 

He laughed, loud and genuinely, just like the rest of Thor's men – but the foreign soldiers were not amused. They sent you hateful glares, hissing whispers that Ylva was a million times more beautiful than you, and you didn't disagree. You just didn't understand how that would make her a better wife. The only ones who stayed truly neutral on the matter were the new healers, who sat away from everyone else and did not do as much as glance your way. 

The oldest one, with his long, orange hair braided on his back, simply pointed at another thing in the book he was showing his pupil. His features were fine, so much unlike the other men around you that you started to wonder if he truly was of the same realm; not to mention that his silver-blue eyes and elegant ears, which were pointed ever so slightly at the top, only made your suspicion grow. His pupil seemed of Asgardian blood, however; with his broader bone structure, onyx hair, and caramel eyes. And though the oldest was very pale, it was the younger, darker man you worried about – the slightly unhealthy sheen of his skin pointed at a deficiency of vitamins, or an illness at least. But they were healers like you, so surely they must know? Your curiosity came bubbling up, and after you had wrung the last bit of water from your hair you made your way over to the table they had claimed. 

“Good evening.” You sent them a warm smile and felt relief ease away a bit of the nerves when they both sent one back. 

“Good evening, m'lady. I am afraid we have forgotten to introduce ourselves.” The older one gestured for you to sit with them, and you did. “My name is Thomas, and this is my student Bjarke.” The younger one curtly bowed his head in respect and acknowledgment. 

You had never heard the name 'Thomas' before, and it sounded foreign enough to make you doubt his race even more – but it would be rude to ask. So you just introduced yourself; though, of course, it had not truly been necessary. 

“Loki's consort, yes; we've heard all about you.” He smiled, kind eyes scrunching a bit. “A healer too, am I correct?” You nodded, and he mimicked the gesture. “We healers must stick together during travels like this. Disease and peril might strike us just as easily as the men we are trying to keep alive.” 

“If it's not too much trouble, I would be honoured to swap information with you – both of you. There is much that I don't yet know.” 

The younger one, Bjarke, spoke up this time. “It is us who would be honoured, miss.” 

And so you spent the rest of the evening discussing all kinds of techniques and recipes with your new acquaintances, even over dinner. Apparently Bjarke's unhealthy appearance was the side effect of a new medicine they were testing, and their foreign ways and experiments only fired up your curiosity even further. 

First Dagny came by to wish you good night, Brant giving you a pat on the shoulder as he followed her to their shared room; later came Trygve, Iver, and Jari, and Einer disappeared upstairs without a single word. Rangvaldr and Stigr stayed up for the first round of guarding duty. 

Finally, long after the sun had disappeared and the lamps had been ignited, the two men in front of you decided to call it a day as well. You would stay here for one long morning before the group would get going again, and Thomas joked he didn't want to spend it sleeping in. Bjarke grinned at that. 

“We're going to the market. Would you like to join us?” 

A pair of eyes in the crowd flashed through your memory at the word and sent a chill down your back, but you pushed it away and nodded. “I'd love to.” 

A last exchanging of good night's wishes and friendly smiles and you were left alone at the table, left to the mercy of your thoughts. Maybe it would be best if you sought out rest as well. So you stood, glancing around the still-busy tavern with the usual hope of spotting Loki, and sighed before making your way through it and ascending the red-carpeted stairs. This inn was certainly a lot more luxurious, with its floors and walls made of polished alabaster and its expensive-looking rugs everywhere. It looked more like a mansion of a lord rather than an inn for commoners; but then again, it were only the richest of commoners that could reside here. You thanked the realms that the Asgardian princes paid for it. 

You were getting close to your room, guessing by the silver numbers on the other doors, and as you turned a final right you could see it at the end – yet before you could set another step two arms slowly slid around your waist and pulled you against a familiar chest. 

He buried his face in your hair and took in your scent. “I missed you.” 

You leaned back against him, your hands on his arms as if to prevent him from taking them back, and smiled. The moment you had recognised his touch, his smell, his magic, your heart had started glowing with fondness and relief. “I missed you too.” 

His grasp on your waist tightened a bit and he placed a kiss on your cheek. “The All-father has agreed to the moderation of the punishment, and the specifics have been written down. The verdict will be given to them tomorrow morning.” 

“Are you leaving again?” 

“Not until breakfast.” 

You turned around in his arms and pressed your lips to his. He froze for a second in surprise but quickly melted into your touch again, one hand settling on the small of your back as the other came up to cup your cheek. You had missed him more than you could remember ever missing someone or something - and you had only been apart for three and a half days. 

You rested your cheek against his chest. “Come to bed.” 

He knew what you meant. You were tired, the discussions had visibly drained him just as much, and you longed for the softness of the sheets and the coolness of his body against yours. So he kept an arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the room and entered. Thor was already fast asleep, with one hand draped over his face and his mouth hanging open as a loud snore passed his lungs, but all it took was one elegant wrist-flick from Loki for the sound to cease coming. You had no idea how it worked, but you were glad it did. 

With a soft sigh you sat down on the large bed and pulled the strap of your satchel over your head so you could drop the bag to the floor, before making quick work of your boots and pulling your legs onto the mattress. Loki had already crawled in and held the sheets up for you to easily slip under. The bed was big enough to easily fit the two of you, the mattress soft and the sheets thick, but both of you scooted to the middle where he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. 

You traced small circles and patterns on his bare chest with your index finger. It still felt too surreal to have him this close to you, physically and emotionally, and a part of you feared that it was only a dream that one day you were going to wake up from. Yet when you looked up and met his gaze, saw that deep fondness swirling through the greens and blues, your heart calmed and the feeling faded. This was real. He was real, his affections for you were real, and there was no need to worry about waking up.  
He lifted your chin to kiss you tenderly and love replaced the blood in your veins, your soul glowing, and you brushed your fingers over his cheek and into his raven hair to convey how much you felt for him. 

He rested his forehead against yours, sleepy eyes half-lidded as he held your gaze, and lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “I am so deeply in love with you that my heart can barely take it.” 

You own heart seemed to grow to twice its size in response, the intensity of your happiness visible as a tear slid down your cheek and fell onto the pillow. “I think mine has already caved.” 

A toothy smile oh so happy appeared on his face, tears gleaming in his eyes as well, and you cupped his jaw as you kissed him again. 

 

He held you close for the entirety of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	46. XLVI

You had woken up beside Loki before and always had your first thought been about how to escape or how to hide how much you liked it; but this morning you awakened to the sound of his slow, steady heartbeat, and all you could think of was how you wanted to live in that exact moment forever with no care for who might see.  
You closed your eyes again, head resting on his torso, and listened. His cool hands had found the skin of your back beneath your shirt and his fingers lay spread out as if to prevent you from leaving. No nightmares had plagued him tonight. Not a single pained or fearful whimper, not a single droplet of sweat, and his chest still languidly rose and fell with every breath he took.

Slowly, the rhythm picked up ever so slightly, and his arms wrapped further and tighter around you as he hugged you good morning. You closed your eyes in bliss, a smile tugging on your lips when he nuzzled your hair placed a kiss atop your crown. 

“Good morning, my love.” 

“Good morning, my Loki.” 

His arms tightened even further and you giggled quietly – though with a bit of difficulty, too – at how your words affected him. You lay like that for a few moments longer, enveloped by him and his smell and his affection, until the rustling of heavy fabric caused you both to glance at the other bed. 

Thor's glance was so incredibly soft, so incredibly heart-felt and joyful, that a blush instantly made its way to your face. He lifted his hands for a moment as if to sign he wasn't going to disturb the moment and, still trying to hold back a beaming smile, pushed himself off the bed, walked to the door, and left the room. 

You heard his footsteps receding down the hall but the click of the lock falling shut made your eyes flicker back to the door – yet before your body had decided with which emotion to respond Loki shifted and rolled on top of you, his lower arms keeping most of his weight off of your chest. 

“Well, now that we are finally alone again, what do you say about we start the day properly, hm?” 

You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Loki, people could hear us - and what if your brother returns with breakfast?” 

He leaned down and ghosted his lips over your neck. “I could teleport us back to my room again, where we can be as loud as we wish.” 

You hummed as his lips found your skin and craned your neck to give him better access. It was very alluring indeed, only thinking about it making your insides stir in anticipation, but you had an appointment with Thomas and Bjarke to go to the market and you were not going to make them wait for you. 

“How about tonight? I am not particularly looking forward so sleeping in the woods, and I did like the interior of your room quite a bit.” You couldn't help the playful tone in your voice, and you knew it would take all his self-restraint to wait for tonight; but the thought of when he would finally be able to unleash all his pent-up impatience – a pleasurable shiver ran down your spine. 

He let out a nondescript hum, without a doubt not too happy with your request, but agreed nonetheless. “You won't escape me tonight.” 

You closed your eyes as he moved the neckline of your shirt to the side, gasped when he softly bit down where your neck met your shoulder, and sighed when he slid his tongue over the spot that would soon grow the beautiful colours of a bruise. The other marks he had left on you, the bruises on your neck and your hips, had already begun to fade to an impure yellow, but most of them were hidden beneath your clothes. This one wouldn't be visible, either. You weren't concerned about anyone seeing them, however – if anything, you were a little bit disappointed that your shirt covered them all up.

You had seen people with bruises like these on their necks, yet you had always assumed they had managed to harm themselves in some silly way or another. Now, however, it all made sense; how they had seemed to wear them with pride, as if the injuries weren't proof of their clumsiness - and of course, they hadn't been: it was you who had misunderstood the context. 

Was it weird that you wanted to wear them? Was it weird that you wanted to walk around showing everyone the evidence how Loki had claimed your body? 

He rolled off of you and, with a sheen of emerald magic flowing over him as he sat up, changed into a set of clothes that seemed quite formal – as if it had been specifically made for a meeting in which a heavy sentence would be laid upon the royal family of Yllgard. And perhaps it was. 

You stepped out of the bed as well but kept your gaze on him as you absently put on your boots, letting your eyes wander over the black suit with green and golden accents and to the three daggers sheathed at his hip. Their hilts were a polished black stone of which you didn't know the name, and an intricate play of lines ran across it, matching the green and gold accents of his garments; but their presence stirred slight fear in the pit of your stomach. He wasn't going to need them, right? Surely they weren't going to attack him?

Loki chuckled softly, having noticed what your attention rested upon. “Worry not, those are only for show. Everyone will wear their formal weaponry; though I prefer daggers to a sword.” He walked around the bed and moved to stand close, resting his forehead against yours as his hands rested on your hips. “I promise I will not use them to harm anyone.” 

“It's not them I am worried about.” You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, not taking your eyes off his. “So promise me _you_ won't get hurt, instead.”

His eyes grew wider ever so slightly, a bit perplexed, maybe, at your words, before his gaze grew soft and oh so deeply tender. “You worry about me.” He let out a short, disbelieving huff of a laugh. “I assure you there's no need; even if they send their entire army at me they will not be able to do me any harm. You have my word.” He lifted one hand to place it over yours, leaning into your touch before moving his face until he could press his lips to your palm. “Though I appreciate the sentiment.” 

He... No one had worried about him before, had they? Had cared for his health? His safe return? He had assumed that you were worried about him hurting someone, and not the other way around, because everyone always saw him as the villain. You knew there was barely any danger waiting for him at the white-metal palace, and his words made your anxiety fade, but no one had worried about him like you did – except for perhaps Thor and his mother. Only two people in his entire life. You placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, and he closed his eyes to savor the gentle feeling of it. You hoped his heart fluttered like yours did. 

“All right, then. I'll be waiting for you.” 

He pulled you close and into an embrace, his voice soft as he responded; “I wouldn't want it any other way, my love.” 

 

You greeted the soldiers – Thor's soldiers – on your way to join the two other healers at the table they occupied in the tavern and sat down on the beautifully crafted chair, realising very well that the money from selling one of them could feed your whole street in Blacktree for the entirety of winter. You made sure you didn't spill a drop of your cider. 

An amiable conversation pulled your thoughts away from Loki, but steered them into the direction of the market – and the memory of the stranger's piercing eyes hit you like a crashing wave. Fear and paranoia came surging back and at once all your senses heightened. The fact that you had seen him in Mestr and not in Mikill was only a slight consolation; he could very well have travelled here ahead of the party to wait for the right moment to ambush you. You'd have to step outside into the crowd without Loki at your side, and though you would have Thomas and Bjarke to replace him for now, you wondered how apt they were at fighting. 

What if you got split up? What if you lost them out of sight, and were hit in the head before you could escape? Or what if you were stabbed in the heart, or cut with a poisoned blade? The amounts of people in the streets made it impossible for you to unleash your magic or ability or whatever it was without injuring some of them, and the guards of the city would no doubt come soon to take you down even though you only used it to defend yourself. What if the stranger had the same kind of ability? What if he didn't care whether people got hurt in the process? 

Neither Thomas nor Bjarke seemed to notice your distress, and you wanted to keep it that way. Nothing would happen at the marketplace. This would do you good – this would show you that you were safe without soldiers at your side. Where had all your confidence gone, anyway? Hadn't you tried to convince everyone that you could take care of yourself many times before? Then why did you now need to convince yourself? Had the constant protection by the soldiers and by Loki made you dependent on them? 

You violently pushed your thoughts away. It didn't matter. You finished breakfast and counted the coin you had left, before putting it back into your bag and following the two Yllgardian healers to the door. You took a deep breath,

 

and stepped outside. 

 

 

 

The rain had continued through the night, a slight drizzle now falling from the heavens without interruption, but it didn't stop the people of Mikill from going about their days. Dozens of men and women already occupied the street and shops had already opened their doors to any customers, their wares displayed both inside and in front of their windows. It seemed... peaceful. Everyone looked at ease, no hands resting on daggers or swords, no anxiety in their eyes or tension in the twitch of their lips. No, they felt safe. And so should you. 

Thomas and Bjarke knew the way to the marketplace and wasted no time marveling at the architecture like you had done when you had first seen the city – but then again, they might have been here many times before – and continued without slowing down their step even once. You almost fell behind when you spotted the library in the distance. This was the city, this was the library, where you realised you had fallen in love with Loki. Where you had started reading to him, his head in your lap, your fingers brushing through his hair. Where he had tricked you into thinking he had fallen asleep, and had taken hold of your wrist to bring your hand to his lips. 

Oh how you had cried, thinking that he had only been teasing you, thinking he could never love you back. Maybe if you had had more experience you would have seen his teasing for what it was – flirting, showing his interest in you – but you had been too blind, too new and uneducated in the concept of romance. 

You quickly caught up with the other two, casting a wary glance around. Nothing felt off, no one was tailing you, but still you couldn't help yourself. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. 

Then you turned the corner, and the large square came into view: a maze of stalls and goods, surrounded by the buildings at the edge of the forum, the smell of spices and baked goods flavouring the air and the sounds of little ornamental things adding to the friendly shouting of the merchants. 

It was mesmerising. 

Coloured glass reflected the beams of light that had already found their way over the rooftops and through the drizzle and created rainbows on every surface around, wood carved in the shapes of animals stood arranged in neat lines on shelves and planks, daggers decorated with jewels and gold caught the eyes of passers-by with their shimmering, and paintings so detailed you would have been able to stare for ages hung suspended from wooden beams – yet the healers paid it all no attention, and continued to the stall selling herbs. You knew you could spend hours here, wandering between it all, yet you also knew your time here was limited and so followed them without hesitating too long. You didn't want to lose them out of sight, not for a single moment.

As they began negotiating the price with the merchant, you checked how much space was left in your satchel. It wasn't much. Loki's cape and your tightly folded clothes, including the two dresses, counted for at least half of the taken space, your full notebooks another quarter. You were fully stocked up on the herbs that neutralised the poison the enemy had used that one time the party had been attacked, and you would have enough contraceptive herbs for another six months, so there was no need to spend the last of your coin on things like that; yet two of your jars were unused and could still be filled. A foreign herb, then? Or maybe you should buy yourself a second bag for over your other shoulder, so you could bring more home? 

The three of you sauntered around for a while longer as you tried to decide what to buy, and when you passed a leatherworker you went for the second satchel. Thomas and Bjarke had found all what they had been looking for and waited patiently for you to redistribute the weight, gave you the time to glance around the stalls some more, and watched with a smile how you used your last coppers to buy some dried weeds of which you had read about their properties and uses. 

You almost had difficulty saying goodbye to the marketplace and its many wonders, yet there was something else you still needed to do. And so, as you turned your back to the many hopeful merchants, followed the two healers back towards the inn; while waiting for the right moment to speak up and voice your worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	47. XLVII

You waited for the three of you to enter a somewhat quieter street, before softly clearing your throat and stopping in your tracks. The other two stopped as well and turned around.

“Is something wrong, m'lady?” Thomas asked, setting a step towards you. Even though he hadn't known you for very long the worry in his gaze seemed genuine, and it surprised you a bit. Maybe all healers were quick to trust? 

“I hope that is something you could tell me.” You smiled a bit bleakly, quickly continuing when their confusion began to show. “You might have noticed the golden specks in my eyes, and as I've seen nothing like it before, I thought that one of you might have an explanation. I... I wondered if it might be some kind of rare disease, and if it is, I wouldn't want the others to worry about me.”

Thomas hummed. “That's why you didn't ask about it, back at the inn.” 

Bjarke set a step forward as well, scanning your eyes up close without stepping too far into your personal space. “I have never seen anything like it before either, miss.” He gently took hold of your chin and tilted it to look at your eyes from a different angle, in a different light, and Thomas' gaze was just as intense – you could almost see him digging through his memory. The student turned towards his tutor, but the ginger-haired man shook his head in slow defeat. 

“I'm sorry, neither have I. Though I doubt that it is a disease, or it would have been recorded in one of the Books of Uncommon Ailments. Sure, new diseases are being discovered every month, yet this... This is not something people would be able to miss. Are there any other things that might count as symptoms?” 

You thought for a moment, but shook your head. “Nothing for as far as I've noticed.” No, you were healthy, both in body and mind, and you had barely ever fallen ill. Never gravely ill, either; and if anything your magic only seemed to have grown stronger. 

He nodded. “As long as you don't feel different or wrong I suppose there is not much to worry about. I will keep an eye on you just to be sure, if that makes you feel at ease.” 

“It would, thank you.” 

He turned and began walking again, waiting for you and his student to catch up before continuing: “It might be wise to tell your lover of your fears, however. No one can deny the man's knowledge on innumerable subjects; he might know where to look if he doesn't already possess the information himself. Not to mention that the palace of Asgard has great healers as well, and their library is, according to the tales of those who have set foot in it, massive.” 

You pushed your childish fantasies of the palace's library aside for a moment, pushed away the butterflies you felt at someone calling Loki your lover, and tried to focus on the core of the conversation. “I have asked him about it – I haven't specifically told him what it is that worries me, but the result was all the same. Loki doesn't know about it either.” 

Thomas seemed lost in thought again for a few minutes, and the exact moment you accepted he wasn't going to reply, he spoke up. “Doesn't know _yet_. Believe no man who says a woman holds no power, m'lady; women are the ones with the most power of us all, which is why many fear them and treat them accordingly. But women,” he smiled for a heartbeat, shaking his head, “women can mend hearts as well as break them. They can start wars and end them, bring peace or chaos, love or hate, life or death. And a man whose heart is lost to a woman, well... She is his everything, she is his weakness. He would do anything to keep her safe.” He met your gaze with kindness and wisdom in his own. “Tell him what bothers you, and he will go to the ends of the Nine and far, far beyond to ease your mind.” 

The thought both warmed your heart and broke it. Even if Loki was prepared to go so far, to do so much, only for you... You wouldn't want him to. You wouldn't want him to leave you in search for a cure, you wouldn't want to live alone for the days, weeks, months, _years_ he might be gone – not now he was finally beside you. You would rather live for another few years, every day in his presence, than exist decades without him. 

“I apologise if my words hurt you, m'lady,” Thomas uttered, worry back into his eyes together with confusion. “That was far from my intention.” 

You in turn were confused at his apology, until you felt the tear slide past the corner of your lips. 

Your fingers found it, and you stared at your fingertips as the moisture shimmered in the morning sun. The thought of Loki worrying so much he spent his days searching for a cure that might not exist, of you dying before he returned, of the pain it would bring him – another silent tear followed. He was your weakness as much as you were his. No matter what you did, no matter where you were, you were an easy target to his heart. If you died, he would get hurt. If you got captured by his enemies, he would get hurt. If you were in pain, then so was he. But it was all the same when turned around: when he was in pain, so were you; if he died, then so would your heart. That was the curse of love, wasn't it? 

“I... I apologise, I'm afraid my mind took a whole other turn.” 

“A turn for the worse, it seems. Tell me, what have I said to make you cry?” 

You huffed out a laugh and wiped at your cheeks. “Please believe me when I say it is not your fault. It is merely the concept of... of hurting him, of _dying_ , that frightens me.” You let out another short, incredulous laugh. “My own death has never frightened me this much.” 

It had always been other people's lives and deaths on your mind. You supposed that was how it was with every healer. Every life you saved, every life you lost; and the latter was what frightened you. People dying beneath your hands, dying because of your incompetence or lack of knowledge, dying, because you couldn't save them. At first it had been Medhea and Illasias on top of the list of those whose deaths terrified you the most. Then Audun got added, and below them came all the villagers you knew; some higher on the list than others.  
But then came Thor and Loki and their men, who quickly climbed their way up until Loki found your parents at the top. Brant's sister, Dagny, joined Thor and Brant below them, pushing Audun down, and then came Kari to keep them company there - and Audhild, too. Even Tove stood with the rest of Thor's soldiers just a bit below. 

But your death? It had never even crossed your mind. And now, now that it could be so incredibly close, fear wrapped its claws around your heart and squeezed with all its might. If this was indeed a rare disease without a cure, if you were indeed life-threateningly ill... 

You would lose all those you cared about in a single moment. 

 

A hand settling on your shoulder shook you from your thoughts, and you glanced up to meet the warmth and reassurance of Bjarke's smile. “Our own deaths frighten us all when we think about it, so it is best not to let it cross your mind too often. Do not forget about it, because it is a fact we must all face one day, but let it go. Take it for granted. We as healers cannot worry about our own lives when saving those of others, and we mustn't let it distract us. Find peace while you live, and you will find peace when you die.” 

You nodded, wiping at your eyes one last time before taking in a deep breath and squaring your shoulders. He was right – they both were. It was not your job to worry about your own life, it was your job to worry about those of others while never forgetting your own mortality. Life was fragile, it had always been and it would forever continue to be, so you needed to cherish it as deeply as you could. 

 

You thanked them once more when you reached the inn and fled upstairs to shed the last few tears that had been burning in your waterline. You had never really seen yourself as a person of many fears, and yet you had accumulated quite a few throughout your life: not being good enough to save those who needed your help, the loudest claps of thunder made you jump and shiver, a sudden unexpected height had you praying for your magic to be quick enough should you fall, a man who could haunt you with his eyes alone though you weren't even able to remember their colour, and now a possible disease bringing death to your doorstep made you cry on the streets of a beautiful and bustling city. Maybe it was time for a self-reassessment. 

You let out a sigh and adjusted the bags hanging from your shoulders, making sure all was there before making your way back downstairs to join the others. First, your thoughts went back to Loki again; when you saddled Egil, when Dagny took her place behind you, and when the city was traded for the woods. You wondered how he was doing; then, how Kari was doing. Would she be able to see how gladly Loki would bring an end to Ylva's life? You had seen it in his eyes, when the two of you had confronted the princess, and you had felt his anger in the swirling of his magic.  
Yet you trusted him not to act upon it.  
Not only because he had given you his word, about not using his daggers and not harming anyone, but because you knew he wasn't like that. Maybe he had been, long ago, and maybe he still saw himself in the light of his past; but he wasn't like that now. Not anymore. 

He was no villain, no evil incarnate. He was no heartless monster, no corrupt prince, no murderer. He was Loki, _your_ Loki, and he was a good man; a good man with a soft heart and a bit of an attitude. All right, quite the attitude – but you couldn't deny that it was charming in a way. With his teasing and his silvery voice, outwitting anyone that dared to test him. 

Your heart grew warmer, and a smile found its way onto your lips. By the realms, how you loved this man. 

 

 

The day only seemed to crawl onwards, the comfortable trot of the horses a steady rhythm as the hours passed by and the sun moved across the heavens. The prospect of Loki's promises stirred the beasts in your belly whenever you thought about it, but it only made every second seem twice as long and twice as unbearable. Yes, you liked traveling, seeing new cities and spending time in good company, but you didn't enjoy sitting atop a horse for an entire day with the knowledge that twelve to thirteen more days in the same fashion were still to come. 

Yet the night came at last, and the party found a tiny clearing where a fire could be built. The horses were secured to the trees, the firewood was gathered, Iver and Jari went to find dinner, and you trained a bit with Dagny until the smell of roasted meat called all men to the source. It was a bit uncomfortable, seeing as it was no longer a small party of Thor's soldiers but rather a crowd of mixed kingdoms, and the little space there was around the fire and between the trees didn't really help either – but you forced yourself to be patient, as you knew you wouldn't have to sleep amongst them all tonight. 

You glanced over your shoulder as you took your meat-filled bowl from Rangvaldr and noticed the many eyes upon you. You had felt them during the ride as well. After your little remark on Ylva the soldiers from Yllgard didn't seem too fond of you, yet their hungry and vulgar glances had stayed; and the feeling of your dagger's sheath resting securely against the skin of your hip had not been reassuring enough to make you feel safe.  
As you stepped out of the light and waited for Dagny to get her portion, you noticed some of the gazes shifting to her. If you left tonight, she would be the only woman in a group of... twenty? Thirty? You hadn't counted. You didn't doubt that Brant would protect her with his life – he would probably even stay up all night if he didn't trust the foreign guards either – yet still, you couldn't help but worry for her. The things you had taught her were far too basic to help her should one of the men try something.

When Dagny ended up in a conversation with Trygve you took the opportunity to find Thor, without letting the brown-haired woman out of your sight for even a second. The prince noticed your sideways glance and followed it. 

“Is something wrong?” 

You lowered your voice to a volume that allowed only him to hear your words. “Some of the soldiers have been eyeing her. I worry about her safety, as your men told me that they carry different morales in Yllgard.” 

The two of you studied her for a few moments, before both your gazes moved over the men. Thor noticed it too, then, and nodded. “I hate to admit I hadn't noticed it yet. I will make sure no harm comes to her.” He moved a hand over his clipped beard. “Should I inform her brother?” 

“I think it would be wise to inform all your men. I trust them with my life, and I am certain they care just as much about Dagny's safety.” 

He turned to you with a smile, a hand coming to rest upon your shoulder for a moment in amiable appreciation, or maybe brotherly warmth. “I'm glad to hear of your trust, and I assure you that we will protect her as we have protected you.” 

You copied his smile and wrapped your arms around his broad, muscular chest. He hugged you back so tight that breathing nearly became difficult. “Thank you, Thor. Where would I be without you?” _Still in Blacktree, having seen nothing beyond the mountains._

Someone cleared his throat behind you, and your smile grew even wider as you let go of the golden-haired man. 

“I am gone for one day and you already find your comfort in another man's arms. Should I be worried?” But the amused tone to his words and the grin on his face told you he was joking. 

“There's no need, your hugs will always be superior.” You moved to wrap your arms around him next, your soul glowing at the feeling of him pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. You closed your eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of him with a blissful smile on your lips. “I'm glad you're back.” 

“There's no need for me to return to Yllgard; I will be with you from now onwards and forevermore.” 

Your heart missed a couple of beats as the butterflies went wild. Forevermore. Your arms tightened even further around him and he chuckled, his voice dropping to a low purr. “Now, let me claim the promise you made me.” 

And no longer were the two of you surrounded by trees and men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love those dorks so much ;u;
> 
> So yeah, next chapter is gonna be smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	48. XLVIII

His lips found your neck as soon as your back hit the bed, his hips grinding against yours in desperate need of friction, and the whimper escaping from your lungs only spurred him on. His hands took care of your shirt and his magic of your pants, leaving only your underwear in contrast to his fullbody armour. 

“Loki-” You were interrupted by a soft moan as he pressed his clothed erection against your core again, but your tugging on his leather got his attention. He hummed, and soon he was nearly naked as well. 

He moved back up on his knees. The dark, ravenous look in his eyes made you sigh almost involuntarily, and when he bent over, his hand sliding over your skin, under the bandaging around your chest and his fingers finding your nipple, you couldn't hold back the gasp. Another sheen of magic and your underwear was gone as well. As one hand softly kneaded your breast his other found its way down, but you caught it before its destination was reached. 

“I.. I want to take it slow.” 

And, to your slight surprise, there was only understanding in his eyes when he answered. “As you wish.” 

He watched you intently as you moved up onto your knees as well, holding your gaze as you slowly pushed him down onto his back. There was slight curiosity swirling amongst the greens and blues now, too.

You left his undershorts on and tried to ignore the large bulge straining against the fabric from within as you moved to straddle his hips, the palms of your hands flat against his pale skin, and slowly bent over – making sure to keep eye contact. His pupils dilated even further but he kept still, waiting, observing, studying you as your face came closer to his, until finally your lips found those of your prince in a gentle, loving kiss. When both of you opened your eyes again there was surprise in his, and your smile grew further. 

“I want to learn about your body, about what makes you feel good. In... in both your forms.” 

His eyes widened and a soft frown pulled his eyebrows together. He visibly struggled to find the right words, but you waited patiently as your fingers traced calming circles on his abdomen. 

His hands gingerly ran over your thighs to find your hips and his eyes switched between yours as if he was searching for an explanation. “There's no need for you to offer such a thing-” He closed his mouth and opened it again, but no words followed. 

“Yet... I would like it. I would like to make you feel good about yourself; I want to show you that I'm truly not afraid of your Jotun form.” The scientific part of you was curious for the differences between both forms as well, but you decided it might not be best to mention that, lest he would begin to think you were using him for your studies. “I understand if you're not comfortable with it, however. It's up to you.”

He simply stared into your eyes for a moment, the internal turmoil visible within the colours, so you bent down and pressed a kiss on his sternum before looking at him again. It seemed to pull him from his daze. 

“Are... Are you sure that is what you want?” 

“Yes.” No doubt, no hesitation in your voice; a quick and confident answer. “I want to make love to all of you.” 

His lips were slightly parted both in disbelief and in lust, but his gaze turned so incredibly delicate and loving that your heart missed a beat. 

“Tell me when to change form, and I will.” 

You sent him a beaming smile and kissed him, trying to convey all that you felt. Your hands slowly slid up his chest to his neck, smoothened over his shoulders, to his chest again, your fingers brushing over his nipples, and you made a mental note of how his back lifted a little off the mattress and how he loosened a strained breath through his nose. You moved your lips to his defined jawline, ghosted them over his sharp cheekbone, to find his ear and take his earlobe between them. His fingers tightened on your hips, even more so when you sucked lightly, and a soft groan rumbled through his chest. With a trail of soft kisses, tiny licks, and gentle nips, you worked your way down his neck until you found the place where it met his shoulder – and you sank your teeth into his flesh.

He groaned again, his fingers digging further into your skin, and let the air from his lungs slip out. “Are you sure-” he sucked in a breath when your mouth enclosed around a nipple, “Are you sure you have never pleasured a man before-” 

You smiled and gave the bud a last gentle suck before moving to the other. “I would remember if I had.” 

You hadn't had time for things like this, nor had you felt strongly enough for someone to feel the need for it. Sure, you had experimented with yourself, had learned to pleasure yourself when your body craved satisfaction, but never had you shared a bed with a man before. 

You let one hand glide over his side as the fingers of the other gently pinched the nipple your tongue wasn't circling, and every contraction of his muscles, every shaking breath told you more about him. You loved hearing his groans nearly getting stuck in his throat, loved how the slightest twitch of his fingers showed his pleasure, loved how you could make his eyes fall shut no matter how desperately he tried to keep looking at you. 

You loved everything about him.

You took your time kissing and licking your way down over his abdomen, your hands trailing behind in featherlight lines, until the line of his underwear was reached. He caught your gaze again as you straightened your back and hooked your fingers around the hem, giving a barely noticeable nod to encourage you and smiled fondly when he noticed your blush returning. You pulled the fabric down and jumped slightly when his hard cock sprang free. 

Your eyes went wide. How had he ever fit before? Not only was he of considerable length, but his girth was not to be ignored, either. Had you suppressed the discomfort so completely that he had been able to do what otherwise would never have been possible? Or was you being aroused enough for him to slide in without problem?

You reached out and brushed your fingertips up along his shaft, glancing up to gauge his reaction, and when you met the deep, dark look in his eyes your stomach twisted violently. Your gazes locked. You slid your fingers up and down and over his tip, watching how his desire was beginning to turn into a sweet kind of torture. Then you wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a slow pump from the base to the tip and back – and he was both unable to keep his eyes open or to keep back his moan. Still, he quickly forced his head back onto his shoulders and continued watching as you picked up the speed. The muscles in his neck pulled taut, his fingers dug into the dark green sheets, and he clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself as still as possible so you could continue your experimenting; but his breathing grew heavy and his knuckles began to turn white from the sheer force with which he tried to keep himself grounded, tried to keep himself from grabbing you and fucking you without mercy. You could see it all in his eyes.  
It was empowering, knowing you had this much control over him; addicting, even. 

So you stopped. 

His forehead wrinkled ever so slightly in a pained expression, confusion creeping into the greens and blues. Yet before he could part his lips far enough to ask what was wrong you bent down and took him into your mouth. 

He let out a sound between a moan and a roar and let his head fall back against the mattress, his chest highly rising and deeply falling with every heaving breath. You couldn't take him very deep – that would take practice, you realised – so you kept one hand firmly locked around his base, moving up and down with the rhythm of your head, and Loki's slender fingers found their way into your hair; though surprisingly gentle. He didn't force you to take him deeper, didn't forcefully push or pull you, but followed your movements with subtle guiding. 

A swirl of your tongue earned you another moan, an experimental suck an even louder one. Gradually you picked up the pace, the fingers of your unoccupied hand softly brushing over his balls, and he tightened this grip in your locks as his panting sped up as well.  
He was getting close.  
You hummed softly, and, as you had predicted, he pushed himself onto his free elbow to meet your gaze and silently ask what was wrong – and that was when you suddenly tightened your grip and sucked, _hard_ , as you stared straight into his eyes. 

With a loud moan his warm seed filled your mouth and slid down your throat as you milked him until his orgasm was over, and when his body went limp and his breathing slowed down again you swallowed the rest, a mix of sweetness and salt that wasn't unpleasant, before placing a last kiss on his tip. He let out a short, breathy laugh in both disbelief and undeniable pleasure. 

The sight of him made you smile. Sweat making his fair skin shimmer, one hand resting on his abdomen, lips parted, and eyes closed in utter bliss. This was of your doing.  
Not bad for an inexperienced woman. 

You brushed a finger over the underside of his member again, and his eyes shot open. “Let me take care of you-”

But you grabbed his cock tightly and grinned when his head fell back onto the sheets once more. “Not yet.” He watched intently as you climbed back up to straddle his hips and came down to place a short kiss on his lips. “Will you change form for me?” 

He swallowed, his brows moving together in a troubled expression. “Are you truly sure-” 

“Yes, Loki, I am.” Your hand brushed over his cheek to settle on his jaw. “No matter how many times you ask.” 

Without averting his gaze he turned; his skin shifting to blue, lines appearing, ruby taking over the colour of his irises, his body growing quite a few inches and his temperature cooling ever so slightly. Your breath caught for a moment, only to slip past your lips in a doting sigh. 

“You're beautiful.” 

You admired his face, his chest, his hands as they came to rest on your sides again, and you took one of them between your own to pull it up, to examine it a bit closer. He held his palm open for you and watched with an intensity you had barely ever seen before - but there was vulnerability, too. No matter how you had tried to reassure him he was still afraid of rejection.  
You placed the palm of your free hand against his and saw how his fingers stuck out almost two full phalanges above yours, slender yet no doubt strong, and you intertwined yours with his; squeezing lightly before bringing them to your lips and meeting his stare. 

He was beginning to see it, wasn't he? How you thought he was incredibly handsome no matter the colour of his skin? Was it finally beginning to settle inside that stubborn brain of his; that you would never run away, never leave him over something like this? Still, he seemed fearful, self-conscious, and his hands were trembling slightly. His whole life he had gone without the love he deserved, the acceptation he craved, and he had kept it all a secret – not even the king of Yllgard had known to use his true name, the proof of his Jotun blood. Not even Thor's men seemed aware. Living in the shadows of his reputation Loki had poisoned himself with self-hatred, with the idea that he was not worthy of love, that he was a living nightmare. 

Your heart contracted so strongly that pain shot through your chest. Thor had called you a healer of both body and mind and you prayed to Yggdrasil for it to be true, because just like everyone else, Loki deserved to feel worthy of affection. 

You let go of his hand and lay your own on his chest to support yourself as you bent forward and placed a kiss on his thin lips. When it was broken you kept your forehead against his and smiled, looking straight into his eyes. “Tell me what you like, what you don't.”

He took in a deep breath but didn't break the contact. “Frost giants are more receptive to heat. It... It is getting increasingly difficult to restrain myself, my love-” a soft groan escaped him though you had done nothing to provoke it, but he saw the slight confusion in your eyes and huffed out a breathy chuckle. “You're so warm that I cannot wait to be inside of you.” 

You could feel the heat surge through your body at his words and a low, almost animalistic growl rumbled from his throat, his eyes turning dark, but you lightly shook your head and brushed your lips over his again. “You'll have to be patient, as I am far from done.” 

And so you pushed back your own desire and stretched your neck to place a kiss on the lines running over his forehead, followed them with your lips, to the lines over his cheekbones and down to his jaw. His breath hitched when you trailed the line over his neck with your tongue, down over his shoulders and to his chest, where you softly huffed a warm breath over every nipple; causing his fingers to once again dig firmly into the skin of your hips and a moan to sound through the air. No line was left untouched, be it by your lips, tongue or fingers. 

Yet when you slipped off his abdomen and followed the lines further down with your eyes, your heart went wild for a second. With his body grown at least thirteen inches or more in height you should have expected him to be bigger down there as well, yet somehow it hadn't even crossed your mind. He stood tall and firm, the girth even bigger, veins running along the shaft, and you were sure that he was never going to fit. Yet you wanted this, you wanted to show him that you would make love to both of his forms without hesitation, and so you moved your leg to the other side of his hip and took him in your hand to position him – swallowing hard when you noticed your fingers couldn't even encompass him. 

He pushed himself up and gently lay his hand on your arm to get your attention, and when you met his eyes you could see the worry amongst the red. 

“Do not force yourself, I don't want to hurt you. Let me turn back to my Asgardian form and pleasure you, my sweetest.” A plea. 

But with his gaze locked you aligned his tip with your entrance and sank down. Your loud moan mixed with his even louder roar and you grabbed his shoulders, rested your temple against his chest as you took him inch by inch, feeling him slide deeper and deeper, stretching you so far it was nearly painful. Sweat gathered on your forehead and another cry slipped from your lungs when his cold tip pressed firmly against your sweet spot, only to slide further and further until he pushed against your cervix and your whole body trembled in his arms. 

“You're so warm, so- tight-” The words came out strained and low and you knew he was already close, the pleasure and heat overwhelming him. No one had claimed this body before. 

You moved your fingers into his raven locks and held his face to the crook of your neck, his teeth crazing over your skin as another moan left his throat. For a few minutes the two of you just sat without moving, without thinking. Your mind was a haze and the feeling of being filled so deeply, so completely was almost too much for your senses, and both your breathing was laboured as you tried to get your hearts back under control. But slowly you adjusted, he adjusted, and he pulled far enough from the embrace to rest his forehead against yours and look into your eyes. 

“I am so deeply in love with you.” 

You smiled, and his intensely fond and loving gaze made your soul brighten so much that it felt like you were about to explode with joy. 

“And I love you in turn.” 

A subtle change in words yet even more severe of meaning – was it too soon to say it? His ruby eyes widened ever so slightly and for a moment you feared you had been too quick, until suddenly his lips crashed against yours in the wildest, most passionate kiss yet. He grabbed your hips an thrust up into you, using your cry of pleasure to slip his tongue into your mouth, only breaking it to flip you onto your back before continuing. One hand supported him as once more he forced his cock deep inside of you, hitting all the way to the back, and the other slid down between your bodies to find the sensitive bud at the apex of your thighs. You cursed when his cool fingertips reached their destination and began to draw slow circles around it while he pulled out and pushed back in again, and again, and again, and no breath of yours was silent. 

But you weren't the only one. Loki's eyes were heavily lidded as he desperately tried to keep them open and locked with yours, his lips parted to let through his ragged breaths that were forced from his lungs with every thrust, his blue skin shimmering with sweat, sounds variating between grunts and moans slipping from his throat, and strands of his raven locks plastered to his face. 

He began to pick up his pace, faster and faster until he slammed into you, forcing your walls to stretch to take his incredible girth and one hand grabbing your hip hard to get all of him inside of you as his free one kept attacking your clit. Then he bent over to take one of your nipples between his lips and sucked, sucked on your breast as he fucked you thoroughly, your moans joining in the sex-scented air of Loki's bedroom. Heat quickly turned into tension, building without respite, and your orgasm came crashing down so hard that you screamed Loki's name louder than ever before.

The feeling of your tightly squeezing walls and the sound of his name falling from your lips when he sent you over the edge pulled him right into oblivion with you, his thick seed filling you fully and mixing with your juices as it came out around his cock; yet he kept slamming into you with all the force he could muster, keeping on hitting your sweet spot and dragging out your orgasm until you felt like you were going to die of pleasure.

His fingers slowed down and he kissed you for the last few thrusts until he pulled out and lowered himself down beside you, pulling you close against his cool body. 

“Don't turn back.” Your voice was but a hoarse whisper, the words spoken between pants, but you knew he heard you nonetheless. “I want to wake up beside you like this.” 

You met his gaze and once more saw the deepest love within the dark ruby, the deepest gratitude. His voice was no less hoarse than yours. 

“I cannot believe you are real even though you lie here in my arms. Sometimes I fear you are too perfect a woman to truly exist, and that I will one day wake up from this dream.” He brushed a strand of hair from your heated face. 

You smiled, remembering how you had thought exactly the same. “I am real, and I am yours. You are real, and you are mine. Tell me whenever those doubts come to haunt you and I will repeat it again and again until you start to believe it yourself.” 

His arms tightened even further around you. “Now what was that thing you said, hm? Something... Something about love?” There was a playful smirk on his face, and the corners of your mouth pulled into one of your own as well. 

“Oh but I think you heard me loud and clear.” 

“I want to hear it again. Say it.” His voice was playful, but you could easily hear how he craved those words from your lips.

“I love you.” You felt his heart speed up beneath your hands. 

“Again.” 

“I love you, Loki. I love you I love you I love you.”

And his lips met yours in a messy, ravenous kiss that was somehow both lustful and hungry and sweet and loving, and when you finally broke apart his taste still lingered in your mouth as yours lingered in his. 

 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!! 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	49. IL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! Sorry for the late update, it slipped right through my fingers ^^'

Your mind remembered that the party would soon leave from its makeshift camp and continue its journey through the woods, and so your body awoke before the sun had yet to rise. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Loki, with raven hair and blue skin, and a smile tugged on your lips. He had honoured your request. Not that you had expected him not to; yet still, you were pleasantly surprised. His cool hand - even cooler than when he was in his Asgardian form - lay flat on your back and held your chest against his while his legs tangled with yours to touch as much of your body as possible. A reassurance that you were still there. 

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips and brushed a fingertip over the line running over his cheekbone. His eyes opened with slight surprise, yet instantly turned warm and affectionate when he met yours; and he gave a sleepy kiss back. 

“Good morning, my love. I suppose it is nearly time to return to those oafs?” 

You chuckled and nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in his scent and wrapping your arms further around him. “Believe me when I say I would stay here just as gladly as you would, but we can't. Dagny doesn't know how to ride, and I don't think any of the men would like to change horses; not to mention that I don't trust those soldiers from Yllgard.” 

He shifted a bit, trying to pull you back to look into your eyes, but you kept your face against his skin. “They haven't tried anything, have they? If they did, tell me who it was and I will make sure they can never try anything ever again.” You could hear his anger in the threatening rumble of his ever-smooth voice, yet you knew it wasn't aimed at you.

“Hush hush, nothing has happened.” You placed a kiss on his throat. “No need to rip out anyone's heart. It's just that I don't like the looks they shoot at her, and I worry that they might harm her if she goes into the woods alone. Up until now I've always been able to stay close when she went to empty her bladder, but if she slips away without me noticing... I don't want her going through the hell she has already lived, not for a second time.” 

He hummed in agreement. “Then time is of the essence.” He pressed a last kiss to your crown before you both let go. “Let's get cleaned up, shall we?” 

 

Loki still kept his Jotun form as he followed you into the basin and joined you underneath the wide stream of water falling from the ceiling, allowing you to admire his entire body once more. A lustful growl of a warning later and you quickly averted your eyes – you couldn't have him claiming your body again, or you would truly be tempted to spend all day making love to him in his chambers. After last night you had had to put some energy into healing your nether regions, but if he fucked you an entire day long while still in his Frost Giant physique you feared it would take a whole lot more magic. 

Luckily both he and you managed to contain your urges and with a flick of his wrist your clothes appeared on a neat pile near your feet, properly washed and all. You got dressed, shared a quick breakfast with him while sitting on the edge of his canopy bed, and stood to stretch before Loki would teleport you back to the others.  
But Loki had not even gotten rid of the empty platter yet before the floor-length, golden-arched window caught your eye, and you noticed something was different about it. The grid existed of only a few elegant lines of which two ran straight down the middle, connected yet not stuck together, and a handle protruded from both. 

That was when you realised it were large doors instead of a window. 

You moved over to it and peered out through the glass and onto the balcony beyond, your hand finding its way to the door handle without a thought. You jumped when Loki suddenly appeared next to you, taking the second handle, and he gave you an encouraging smile before the two of you opened the doors together. 

The view took your breath away. 

At the end of the balcony a golden balustrade was the only barrier between you and a twenty five meter drop to the most beautiful and lavish gardens you had ever seen. You couldn't count the number of different plants and flowers from this high up but from the colours alone you guessed there to be hundreds of different species, and at least twenty different kinds of trees along the paths. The palace encompassed most of it with a tall colonnade, but the outskirts merged into a forest that ran all the way to the massive walls in the near distance. Above you the palace rose even higher, and the last of the stars twinkled behind thin sheets of clouds as the first light of the day coloured the edge of the sky in hues of pink, yellow and orange. 

If Loki hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist, hadn't softly rested his chin on your shoulder and whispered that the two of you had to go, you would have been able to watch for hours. 

“When we arrive here I will show you everything; the gardens, the forest, the palace, all of it. You will be able to see this view every morning and every night and at any moment in between.” He kissed your neck and you leaned back against him, not yet ready to take your eyes of the scenery before you. 

“I can't wait. Can you... Can't you just teleport everybody home? One by one, so it does not take too much energy at once?” 

“I'm afraid that would not work. Even if I transported everyone to Asgard in turns it would drain my energy considerably, and I would have to rest for days between each few jumps. The party would grow small and vulnerable and would quickly become an easy target for our enemies.” 

“But the soldiers form Yllgard would still be there-” 

“I thought you did not trust them?” More a statement than a question, as he seemed to share your sentiment. 

You were silent for a moment as you ran the options through your mind, but every time came to the same conclusion, and a tiny sigh of disappointment escaped your lungs.“You're right.”

“I'm sorry, my love. I cannot wait myself until I can introduce you to my mother and show you around my home, but I fear we both will need to be patient for a little while longer. We can come here every night, however; I will be fully rested in the morning to teleport us back should the day take its toll, and I prefer a bed to the hard forest floor – especially if you're in it.” 

You felt his smirk against your skin and you chuckled. “I understand your preference - I like a mattress beneath my back just as much as you do – but I would lay beside you on the ground as well. If you feel too tired to take me here don't worry about it and just tell me, all right?” 

His arms tightened ever so slightly around your waist. “Would you not be embarrassed? There would be many who would see us.” 

You frowned and managed to turn around in his arms and look him in his eyes. “Why would I be? There is no shame in loving you, my prince. I wouldn't mind even if the entire realm saw me sleeping at your side.” 

Delicate fondness bloomed in his green-blue eyes and for a moment you wondered when he had changed back, before his sweet kiss made your mind go blank.

“I hope you are aware that you make it incredibly difficult for me to take you back? I could just refrain from teleporting you and seduce you back into my bed, but I understand your concerns for the soldier's sister would only grow. Perhaps I should teleport her here and post a few guards outside her chambers, that way she would be safe and you would be freed of your worries; and we could use the day for more... _enjoyable_ activities.” He nearly purred the words, voice low and silvery, and a grin pulled at the corners of his thin lips. 

You hummed in response, unable to keep yourself from smiling. “That does sound very tempting indeed, but we can't take her here without asking first. And besides, you would have to teleport Egil as well, as no one else dares to ride on his back.” 

“Then let's ask her, and we will see from there.” He stole another kiss, and your smile only grew. 

“All right then.” 

 

 

All the men were already up and about when you and Loki appeared beside the dying fire. Their eyes quickly found the two of you, those of Thor and his men filled with warmth and kindness but those of the Yllgardian soldiers filled with either slight shock or dislike – or a combination of both; and you guessed that they hadn't known Loki to have the gift of magic. You remembered Kari hadn't known either. Maybe the rumours reaching Yllgard had lost that piece of information along the way, or maybe they had simply forgotten – but whatever it was, you liked the caution it brought to their stances. Perhaps this fear of magic would make them think twice about trying anything. 

As Loki went to discuss the route with his brother you walked up to Dagny and inquired about her night, but she brushed away the question with a quick 'fine' before a shy grin grew on her face, a mischievous twinkle appearing in her eyes. 

“Was he good?” 

You froze, warmth quickly finding its way to your cheeks. “What?” 

“Oh come on, everyone can see it. You've got that after-sex glow to your skin. Both of you.” 

You rose your hand and studied your skin with a slight frown, and though it did look healthy you couldn't find what she spoke of. She chuckled, setting a step closer and leaning forward as if to discuss a dangerous conspiracy. 

“So? Is he well-endowed?” 

You snorted at the sheer bluntness of her question. Never had you expected her to be so vulgar – was her shyness only a farce? Then you remembered you had often walked past giggling women standing in close circles or groups, both in Blacktree and the other cities you had visited, and realised that this was gossiping. You had never truly taken part in any as there had been more important things to do in the shop, and during your entire trip to Yllgard you had only experienced the soldier version of it: laughing and shouting while drinking ale at the tavern. You hadn't really taken part in that either; you had simply listened with a grin on your face. 

But Dagny had not been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of chitchatting with anyone since depression had taken hold of her. She had barely left the house and had been depraved of social contact, and so it was only to be expected that she tried to pick it up again, tried to get back a normal life. It was a sign that she was opening up to you even further and that she trusted you.

You could do this, for her. 

“W-well, uhm, he is. He definitely is.” 

All right, easier said than done. Your blush only increased at her giggle, and the thought of Loki's member both in Asgardian as in Jotun form sent the creatures in your stomach aflutter; not to mention how the memories of how he fucked you last night caused a pleasurable shiver to run down your spine. 

“I thought so. It's hard to miss, even through all that leather.” 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, too surprised to feel even the slightest bit offended at the fact that she had looked at your lover's crotch, and followed her eyes to the raven-haired prince standing well out of earshot. Or at least, that was what you hoped; but when he met your eyes over his brother's shoulder and his lips curled up in a tiny smirk you felt your heart skip a beat. Dagny didn't notice it, however, and to your horror merrily continued. 

“They say size does not matter but it sure does help a lot. I'm almost jealous, you know. Thor does not seem like a modestly-sized man either. Would something like that run in the family? You should know-” 

Your eyes went wide and you quickly interrupted her. “I do not know and I have no desire of finding out.” 

She laughed loudly and clutched her stomach as she tried to keep herself from doubling over, all while you looked at her with the most confused and indignant expression you had ever managed to get onto your face.

“As a healer! I meant as a healer.” Another fit of laughter, but she managed to get herself back together again. “I mean isn't this something you learn about or see when you treat people? I'm sure men manage to hurt those things one way or another?” 

“I- well-” You shook your head and tried again. “Yes, I've seen a fair share of... _manhoods_ , I suppose, but I've never paid it any attention apart from the injury or disease that needed to be treated. I didn't know why some men and women from the village seemed so obsessed with them, and to be honest I thought they were rather ugly. Well, until... Until Loki.” You mumbled the last two words so softly you prayed your lover hadn't heard them or you knew you would never hear the end of it, but one glance to the side told you enough: his smirk had grown and carried pride, now, too; and even his pose had become a bit more boastful.

Dagny burst out laughing again, and her enjoyment of the conversation took away some of the awkwardness. She had no doubt missed silly things to talk about, or the company of another woman, and if a massive blush on your cheeks and some future teasing from your lover was all that it took to grant her this piece of happiness, then you wouldn't mind continuing – though not without getting a tiny bit of revenge.

“Yet if you're so interested in Thor's _size_ , you could always ask him about it. You're going to ride with him from now on, anyway, so you'll have plenty of time to talk about it.” 

Your grin only grew as you saw her eyes widen and her face turn nearly as red as yours. “What? But-” She then seemed to remember what you had said a couple of days ago, about her needing to switch horses when the second prince returned. “C-Can't I ride with my brother?” 

“Brant needs the ability to move freely and fight should we be attacked, and it is safer for you to ride with Thor.” You gave her a pat on the shoulder, yet your grin had gotten stuck. It was then that the golden-haired prince walked past, and he beamed a large smile at the both of you, completely oblivious of what you had whispered to her. 

“Ah yes, you will be riding with me, right? Don't worry, Vænn is a gentle horse. I can introduce you to him if you want?” 

Dagny seemed to struggle to find the right words for a moment, so after a few heartbeats she simply nodded and followed him to the white steed, yet not without throwing a glare at you back over her shoulder. You just chuckled and mouthed a 'have fun', before turning with the intention to find Loki. You didn't have to look far, as your eyes quickly found the leather-clad chest right in front of you. 

“What a lovely conversation the two of you had, shame I wasn't invited.” His hands came to rest on your hips. 

You rolled your eyes at his massive smirk but couldn't get the corners of your own lips down. “Oh shut up.” 

“I don't think I can; you might need to help me.” And before you could respond he gently lifted your chin and stole a kiss. “We should go saddle Egil lest they leave us behind, don't you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh today was a busy one; uni is soon starting again, after all. Still, for now I can keep up this uploading schedule! (But times may change, as you have noticed)  
> Please go send the blog some asks or headcanons! Foruneyti.tumblr.com  
> I'd love more interaction with my readers, and I would love it even more if I could make you happy with some quick sketches and drawings ♡
> 
> And, as you may have noticed, I have uploaded a Halloween-based Lokixreader oneshot commission to my page. Go check it out if you're interested (●´ω｀●)
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	50. L

It was rather amusing to observe Dagny from the corner of your eye, to see how she gripped the saddle with all the strength she had purely so that her back did not have to touch Thor's armour-clad chest. You wondered if he truly frightened her or that your words still rang clear inside her head, or perhaps a combination of both, and a smile found its way onto your lips.  
You had been quick to trust Thor. His beaming smile, kind eyes, and brotherly aura had convinced you of his gentle spirit within mere hours of his arrival at the shop, if not sooner, and you didn't doubt that she would soon come to the same conclusion; it was obvious that he cared for his men and his sibling, and for you, too. He probably already cared for her as well.

“You seem distracted.” 

You leaned back against Loki, your smile unfading. “I was wondering how long it will take her to warm up to your brother.” 

“She's the first not to swoon over his good looks or to drool over his muscles,” he mocked. 

“The second, mind you.” You wiggled your shoulders further into his chest to emphasize your words, earning you a fond chuckle. 

“Still an unusual occurrence.” One of his hands left the reins so he could wrap his arm around your waist, and his voice softened a bit. “I remember being jealous of him, of the attention everyone gave him; all the soldiers, all the women. They called him the most handsome man to ever be. The golden prince, with hair the colour of the sun and eyes the colour of the sky, who would bring peace and prosperity to the people.” 

Your smile had fallen as your mind had begun to imagine his memories. “And now?” 

“Now I am glad that no woman ever paid me any heed, or I might never have found you and would have continued living my days in misery.” He placed a kiss on your hair. “And as for my brother, I believe Asgard will flourish under his reign.” 

He had told you before how he had never truly desired Thor's claim to the throne, and there was no secret undertone of resentment to either his voice or his words - only a matter-of-fact honesty. You could easily imagine how it would have stung, however, to see everyone fall for his brother while no one even glanced his way, and to hear how they praised him, always him and never Loki. Another factor contributing to his low level of self-worth. 

Your voice was even softer than his when you responded, growing sadder the more you spoke.“I am not sure if it makes me a horrible person, but I'm glad that they didn't pay you any attention as well. If anything had gone different, if anyone had turned to look at you and away from your brother, I might not have been sitting here with you. You might have fallen for a lady from Asgard, or you might have been married to Ylva already, and I would never have gotten to know you. I would never have fallen in love with you.” 

His arm tightened around you almost harshly, and he suddenly spoke much louder. “Do not think like that. If you were to think of all the possibilities and all the different outcomes you would go mad, and I love your mind too much to allow it to be captured by insanity. You are here, with me, and that is all that matters.” 

Your smile returned, and the sadness flowed from your heart. 

“Thank you. I think... I think I needed to hear that.” 

“Quite all right. Now that this has been settled-” You could hear a smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his lips. He bent over, bringing his mouth closer to your ear, and continued: “Have you asked her yet, or were the two of you too caught up in the conversation about our bedroom escapades? ” 

A shiver ran down your spine as he gently took your earlobe between his teeth. “N-not yet, but- Loki, stop that-” 

“Worry not, no one can see or hear us. I could do anything to you and they wouldn't have the slightest clue of it all,” he purred, and the arm around your waist retracted a bit to allow his hand to creep under your shirt. You sucked in a breath when his cool fingers slowly began to slide higher, and he chuckled. “I could bend you over and take you right in front of them, and none of them would know; they would simply see me and you riding peacefully amongst them. Would you like that?” 

He slipped his hand underneath the bandaging and softly squeezed your breast, his thumb toying with your nipple. You arched into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder, and his lips found your neck. No matter his promise you bit your lip to keep the mewls and whimpers from escaping. No one was looking at the two of you, no blushes rose on their faces, but it did little to ease your worries of them noticing what the two of you were doing. 

“I could twist you around. I could set you on my lap and push right into you, fuck you until you would remember nothing but my name.” He slid his tongue up your neck, leaving a kiss just below your ear. “Hold the reins for me, my love.” 

You grabbed the reins with all your strength, desperately fighting the moan that got stuck in your throat when his now free hand moved down into your pants and two slender fingers slid between your folds. Loki groaned in delight to find you wet and bit down on your skin at the same time he slipped the two fingers inside of you, making it harder and harder to keep quiet. He curled them to find the spot of which he knew it brought you immense pleasure, rubbing it as he pushed his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm while his other hand kept kneading your breast and brushing your nipple. 

Your whole body was aflame. 

At last he forced a tiny moan from your mouth when he pressed his palm firmly against your clit without slowing down his fingers and the tension inside your belly rapidly built, before the air in your lungs got stuck and you came undone. Your walls fluttered around him and he kissed your neck as he rode out your orgasm, his other hand no longer kneading but softly caressing. 

He pulled his hand from your shirt to wrap around your waist and hold you against him as he brought the other one to his mouth, tasting you, running his tongue over and between his fingers. 

“I would taste you all day if I could.” 

You didn't respond but closed your eyes and rested against him, trying to get your heartbeat back under control, and he chuckled. 

“I will give you a few moments to collect yourself before I drop the illusion; tell me whenever you feel ready for it. I cannot promise I will be able to keep my hands off of you for the rest of the day, however.” 

 

But after you had regained the ability to act like he hadn't just made you come while sitting on the back of his horse, and after he had dropped the illusion, he didn't touch you again for the rest of the day – at least, not in that way. When his arms got tired he let you ride and wrapped them around your waist instead, or settled his hands on your hips, which proved to be a place he really liked to hold you, and he kept you against his chest at nearly all times. But it wasn't burdensome; far from it. He was always gentle, never constricting, and it was as if he could read the subconscious signs of your body with near perfection as he knew when to give you some space and when to hold you tight. The hours didn't seem so long anymore. 

A quick stop was made halfway through the day, no stream or lake in sight for everyone to fill their flasks again, but Loki made beautiful vases appear; vases of clear glass containing even clearer water. The Yllgardian soldiers kept them as far away from their bodies as possible but no one really seemed to care. If they wanted to get dehydrated out of fear of magic, then so be it. 

Thomas and Bjarke did accept, however, and thanked the raven-haired prince with a grateful nod before quenching their thirst. They did not seem to care about the Yllgardian men either – if anything, they seemed irritated at their lack of common sense. You couldn't help but grin when you saw Thomas roll his eyes and Bjarke drag a hand down his face. Poor men; they were to be the ones to provide them with medicine when the dizziness started to kick in, whereas you had the easy task of looking out after Thor's guards.  
Of course you wouldn't let any of the Yllgardians die if magic was the only thing that could save them; because if that were to happen, you and Loki would be the only ones capable to provide the help. Or maybe Thomas or Bjarke kept their magic well-hidden, and could come to their aid as well, should it be necessary – yet you didn't think it likely. 

But you figured that the soldiers would rather die than to be healed through magic. 

 

The rest of the day passed by uneventful, and when the light slowly began to fade Thor gave the order to rest. Once again there was no large enough clearing nearby to set up the few tents the Yllgardians had brought with them, and so the men began to claim the spaces between the trees as their beds for the night, none caring to help with the fire. Comments like 'let the women do it' reached your ears and you had to put a hand on Loki's chest to keep him from scolding them or worse, but he made sure to let the flames erupt high when he shot his magic at the logs and their terrified faces were enough to make up for their words. Thor's soldiers seemed unbothered by the show, and Trygve simply walked off to get more wood. 

Loki turned his attention away from the guards and back to you. “There's a few matters I need to discuss with my brother, yet my lady is always welcome to come and interrupt me with a kiss.” He shot you a last grin before making his way to Thor, yet you could feel his magic in the air, keeping him aware of all that happened around - to make sure you were safe. 

You smiled, your heart glowing, and you let your magic swirl with his for a few moments before seeking out company yourself.

 

Dagny looked up and greeted you as you sat down next to her, a sigh escaping her lips as soon as your bum touched the cold forest floor. 

“I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I can train with you tonight; my muscles are sore and my head feels heavy.” 

You chuckled. “No wonder, after you tried to avoid Thor while sitting on the same horse. He's a kind man, and I trust him with all my heart. He will never do anything to wrong you.” 

“I know, I know.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them, her gaze lost in the fire. “I just find it... difficult. To trust any men beside my brother, I mean. Not just because of my past, but... I don't know. It's hard.” 

“It's okay, there's no need to give your trust by force – that would be the exact opposite of how it's supposed to work.” She giggled, and you were glad to see her eyes brighten a bit again. “I... I can't say I fully understand – I can very well imagine it, of course, but I have always been someone who throws her trust at anyone that comes her way. It took me less than a few hours to trust Thor when I met him.” 

“Less than a few hours? You must be mad.” 

You laughed. “I must be. But I'm glad I did, or I wouldn't have taken his offer to travel with him and his party as their healer.” 

She shifted to face you, and you had her undivided attention – even the dancing flames had been forgotten. “You met everyone in your village, right? In Blackwood?” 

“Blacktree,” you gently corrected her, “but yes, they came barging through the door during a heavy storm, bringing in their wounded.” 

“What is it like? What are the people like? Will we pass it on our way to Asgard?” 

You didn't know what had her so interested in the Town Between Kingdoms, but you told her of it without restraint. You told her of the houses, the streets, the nearby lake, of the woods and the mountains, and of the people you knew. You told her of the tiny celebrations at the changing of the seasons, and of the large fests at the winter and summer solstices and at the rebirth of a year. You told her about the shop, the renovations, and the small room you could call your own. 

“You mentioned your parents before; do they live above your shop as well? They are healers too, right?” 

You nodded. “They do, and they are. They were the original owners of the shop before they passed the work to me. It's not that they are too old to work, they still help around a lot; but they wanted me to be independent and capable of running it for when they will step back someday.” Your hands found the hem of your shirt, and your voice became a bit uncertain. “I'm... I'm not sure if they will keep running it themselves or if they will find a new apprentice, now that I'm going to Asgard with prince Loki. I wish they would come with us.” 

“You don't think they will?” 

You shook your head, your smile turning wistful. “No. They know that they can't leave Blacktree without its healers, and their history with the village runs deep. Even if I begged them to come they wouldn't give in. I got my stubbornness from them, I suppose.” You chuckled, your heart beaming at the thought of seeing them soon again. “I can't wait to tell them about my journey. About all of it.” 

Dagny turned her face back to the crackling fire and smiled. “Tell me more about them. My family has never truly been good to me apart from my brother. I... I might be thinking of settling in Blacktree and asking to be their apprentice – I want to be a healer like you, I want to save people's lives. I've been sleeping in the darkness for far too long now. It's time for me to get out and make my own light.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is such a pervert but he loves it asdfdg  
> And Dagny might become a healer's apprentice! Will she like it? Will she hate it? 
> 
> Also, I want to open two new tally votes! I want to know who of you ships Thor/Dagny and who definitely doesn't (and I would love to hear why you do/don't!) and I want to know who wants Healer and Loki to have babies in the future! What gender would they be assigned at birth, and how would you call them? (This does not mean that it will happen, however. I have the entire fic planned out in my head, and whether there are babies in there or not has already been decided! I'm just curious as to who is for dad!Loki and mom!Healer) 
> 
> **Tally votes:**  
>  Thor/Dagny heck yes: ~~IIII~~ ~~IIII~~ II  
>  Thor/Dagny hell naw: IIII  
> Loki/Healer babies heck yes: ~~IIII~~ ~~IIII~~ II  
>  Loki/Healer babies hell naw: III  
> Apprentice!Dagny heck yes: ~~IIII~~ ~~IIII~~ ~~IIII~~ I  
>  Apprentice!Dagny hell naw:
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	51. LI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops forgot to upload again asdfvds i'm sorry

You told her stories about Medhea and Illasias until most men had already sought out their spots between the trees. You told her stories from your point of view, and stories they had told you from theirs; such as how Illasias had found you as a defenseless babe in the woods when he had been on his way to gather some herbs beyond the lake. You left out the fact that he had found your mother right beside you, dead, smelling of a low-working poison that was hard to come by, and instead spoke of how he couldn't find it in his heart to leave you behind and had taken you back to Blacktree, where he had presented you to Medhea.  
He had told you how she had burst out into tears of joy, a wide smile of immense happiness splitting across her face; because after years and years of trying they had never been able to conceive. A gift from the Gods, she had called you. He had only agreed.

They had raised you as their own, but told you as soon as you were old enough to understand that you were not theirs by blood but by heart and soul.  
Illasias took you on his trips through the forest, over the mountains and beyond the lake, taught you of all the things you would need to know when you were to take over their task as the healer of the village and more; he taught you how to read and write, and how to use all the information that came to you, while Medhea provided you with manners and gave you knowledge about weapons and self-defense. 

For your fourth nameday she gave you a dagger, and you had to promise her to be careful with it. For your fifth she asked Audun's father to let you train with him and his son. You had wondered what she had been afraid of, never really understanding why she made you fight when you had no desire to attack or kill anyone, until one early night in the midst of winter came. 

 

It was snowing when the raiders attacked. Screaming had awoken you from your slumber, the clashing of swords making you climb onto the desk and glance through the window while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and the things you saw filled your nightmares for months to come. Half of the town stood ablaze, flames rising high towards the sky, their light making the blood on the streets shimmer as the smoke blocked out the stars. Bodies lay lifeless on the cobblestone, broad men with swords and axes slaughtered those that stood in their way as foreign women kicked in doors and carried food, pelts, and weaponry into the woods, and the wounded were screaming, bleeding, _dying_. You had been too terrified to cry, too terrified to scream - until you recognised a silhouette on the street below.

Medhea. 

The man she was fighting towered over her and she was quickly losing ground as the swings of his axe pushed her back towards the shop. She was losing. You rushed out of your pyjamas and into your clothes, rushed to find your dagger, crying and crying when you couldn't remember where you had left it until you found it beneath your bed and bolted down the stairs; but you had taken too long - Illasias dragged his wife into the shop and lay her on the table, pressing down hard on the gaping cut in her belly. The raider lay dead before the open door. 

“Come here and press on her wound!” 

You quickly did as you were told, nearly falling down the last steps of the stairs in your hurry, and pressed with all your might while Illasias grabbed his tools and whirls of snowflakes made your skin shiver. Tears kept streaming down your face as the blood kept streaming down her sides, until a hand touched your cheek and you looked up to meet her gaze. 

“Worry not, my child; I will not be greeting death so soon.” 

The thought of your mother losing her life made your hart feel like it had stopped - and that was when you felt it spark inside your being, inside your hands. You could feel her energy flowing through her body, flowing through yours, and as if by instinct you redirected it to her wound; you pushed and pushed it, slowly feeling it drain from both of you – but the bleeding stopped, and the wound slowly began to close. 

Later Medhea admitted that she might not have made it if it hadn't been for the awakening of your magic. 

 

They were accepting – more than accepting even, as they urged you to train it and to become better at it, as long as you kept it a secret. The people from Blacktree were a traditional folk, not too keen on the unknown, and your parents feared what they might do if they found out. They had heard the tales of far kingdoms. Foreign places where magic was shunned, banned, and where those who wielded it were always met with a horrible fate. They wouldn't risk nearly losing you again. 

On the night of the raid, after Medhea had regained her strength, she and Illasias went out to fight once more. You sat quivering with fear inside the shop, dagger clenched inside your hand and aimed at the now closed and bolted door as you heard the screaming and the crackling of the flames continue outside, the roars of foreign men the most terrifying sound you had ever heard; but after a while the chaos seemed to cease and the night fell quiet again, save for the whimpers of the surviving.  
The wounded were brought in, and for the entirety of the night and the day that came after you and your parents tended to them until no injury was left untreated. Many still died. You had too little energy, too little experience and training to use your magic to save everyone, and you would never forget how the dormitory reeked of blood and death and rot. 

Half of the town was in ashes. Half of the food was gone. Pelts, clothes, weapons; all taken by those who had managed to escape. The cold and hunger took many more lives that winter. People you knew, people you cared for. 

Images of red-stained snow and hissing flames haunted you, the bellowing of the raiders a constant ringing inside our head. You hadn't understood how anyone could be so cruel, you hadn't understood why you hadn't been capable of saving everyone, and your grief turned to rage. 

How your parents had been worried to find you gone one morning. 

Against all reason you snuck out, into the woods, following the words of the age-old legend of the Dragon of Blacktree that was supposed to be watching over the village to make sure no harm would come to it nor its peaceful inhabitants; and you had been determined to ask it for an explanation. Why hadn't it come to save them? Why had it allowed your mother to get hurt? Should it not have come down from the heavens and scared the plunderers away before any harm could have been done? 

Many believed it was just a tall tale, one that had survived from the beginnings of time when the first settlers had built their houses beside the lake. Dragons had not been seen in centuries. They were extinct, some said; others believed they had never existed in the first place, that it was all just a hoax, a fairytale, told to scare the misbehaving children. 

But when you reached the overgrown and abandoned temple, with pillars of white stone broken and fallen and strangled by vines but still glorious in beauty, you forgot everything anyone had ever told you. You forgot how to listen to your common sense, too. 

You walked through the colonnade of pillars, those still standing supporting the crumbling roof while the vegetation slowly forced their roots into the holes and cracks in the timeless attempt of reclaiming what was once forest, and what would once become forest again. Yet the bushes seemed recently stamped on, the grass still bent under the feet of vanished men, and you knew someone had come before you not too long ago. With your dagger kept firmly in your fist you stalked closer to the entrance of the cave at the end of the open-air hallway. You reached it. You stopped. And at that moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Inside the massive cave, a circle carved to perfection, lay a dragon in a sea of blood. 

Beams of light fell through the holes in the dome-like ceiling and shone upon the creature, on its grey scales that seemed once to have been of the purest white. All your rage flowed away and your eyes began to sting, your nose began to itch; an unknown sadness hitting you in the chest as if the death of this creature urged you to cry for the loss of the nine realms.  
But then its back rose ever so slightly, and fell again. It was still breathing. 

_”Come closer.”_

You froze, staring at the massive head and the closed eyes within it. It had not moved apart from its shallow inhales and tense exhales, and the voice had not rang through the air – it had been inside your mind. 

_“Come closer.”_

And you did. 

 

You didn't tell Dagny any of that, however - you simply showed her the dagger Medhea had given you for your fourth nameday and told her of the wisdom she had shared with you. She hadn't been able to train you in the art of the dagger nor the sword as the shop simply took up too much time, but she had introduced you to Audun and his father instead, with whom you began training every morning. You were determined to be prepared when another group of raiders would come, and you were determined to protect the ones you loved. 

As you talked and talked to Dagny, all kinds of memories came flooding back. Of gathering herbs and weeds together, of sitting by the fire on a cold winter's night, of Medhea brushing your hair while Illasias made dinner; things like that. Too insignificant to tell long stories about, yet the most valuable memories of all.  
Your mind slowly grew tired, yet Iver, who you hadn't even noticed to have joined the two of you – no, _four_ of you, as apparently Stigr and Jari had been listening as well – noticed the weariness in your eyes and proposed to tell some stories of his own. He lay his bow in his lap, a nostalgic but fond smile growing on his lips as he began to gently rub oil into the curved wood. 

“My mum made me this bow. She was the best archer of the garrison, and the bows she made were of a quality so fine that many could not afford it. She made a deal with a man like you, miss, a man capable of performing magic: she would give him half of the coin she earned by selling the bows, as long as he cast his spells on them.” He caressed the wood with his fingertips, careful like it was a fragile newborn. “She made this one for me once she heard I wanted to join the garrison as well, one of the best she has ever made with one of the strongest spells the sorcerer could cast. The wood will never wear down, never grow old and used, and the string will never snap.” 

The look in his eyes was so proud, so grateful, you couldn't help but smile; though your expression faded when his eyes slowly lost their gleam. 

“It's the only thing I have left of her. We soldiers are not allowed to bring too much personal possessions to our quarters back in Asgard, you see – it is even advised against to get attached to materialistic things – but since it was a weapon they couldn't refuse. And in all the years I have trained, in all the years I have properly served the royal family, the string has not snapped once.” 

“But you're taking care of it like it's your son, surely that must count for something as well.” Jari gave the archer a friendly slap on the shoulder, succeeding in lifting the mood a bit. “Waxing and oiling like you're giving a massage to a fair lady!” 

The men sniggered, and even Dagny's shoulders lost a bit of their tension as the corners of her lips pulled up. Stigr came with tales next, of the maps he had bought and the ones he had drawn himself, and of the things that had made him decide to become a scout. 

“A friend once gave me one with a tiny treasure chest drawn somewhere between two houses in the city, and I, gullible as I was – and still am - searched hours and hours to find it; only to find out he had been playing with me. I never heard the end of it. But one day I still hope to find a map that leads to great treasure!” 

The men laughed, and he laughed along. In one evening you learned more about the pasts of these soldiers than you had during the last month, and though it was a lot to take in for your weary mind you gave them your undivided attention.  
Trygve joined as well and told how he had come from a poor family, his service as a swordsman the only way for him to provide for them, but he didn't complain - he enjoyed it more than anything else.  
Jari had always yearned to be a soldier, to fight with a sword his father had forged, so when he got his chance to join the royal guard he grabbed it with both hands and refused to let go. He admitted that the imposing look of the armour-clad men had contributed to his wish to become like them and, with a bit of a shy grin, told you and Dagny that he had a man waiting for him back home. He, too, served in the royal guard and liked men in armour, which had been another two reasons for Jari to join.  
Rangvaldr shared the story of how he was forced into service by his father. He had long since made peace and enjoyed what he did, and without self-pity stated that it was the only place where he belonged. He was never going to return to the village he came from, and he was okay with that.  
Einer didn't come to sit with you and the others but the soldiers told his story nonetheless. He was a highborn man who had fallen from grace by spending all his money on the finest wine he could get his hands on, and had had to choose between losing the position of his father's heir or joining the soldiers of Asgard. He was a fine swordsman, so good at his profession that he had gotten the honour of serving the crown prince himself, but it didn't seem to soothe the harsh ultimatum he had been given. 

Everyone already knew about Brant's story, and so he kept quiet and listened; saving his sister from the tales of their parents. 

An amiable silence fell, the only sounds the chirping of the crickets, the crackling of the flames, and the rustling of the wind blowing through the leaves; and your eyelids quickly grew twice as heavy. You barely noticed how everyone glanced up and aimed their eyes behind you, some of their gazes wary – Jari, Iver, Stigr – while others kind – Trygve, Brant, Rangvaldr; and only when you felt a slender hand settling gently on your shoulder did it make sense to you. 

“We have twelve more days of riding ahead of us, my lady; it would be wise to seek some rest.” 

The prince's voice was soft, still smooth like honey, and the sound of it made your eyes slip shut and your lips form a smile as you tilted your head and lay your cheek against the back of his hand. “You're right.” After a second of gathering your leftover energy you took hold of his arm and let him help you to your feet, but before you left you sent a warm smile to Dagny and the men of Thor's guard. “Thank you for tonight.” 

You got nods and smiles and fond gazes in return, and you realised that they were your family now, too. These men and their princes.

Family by heart and soul instead of blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the past! So there _was_ an actual dragon, after all! But it is dead... so what role could it still play in the story? Any theories? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
>  Aww I love Med and Illas so much, best parents tbh ♡
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	52. LII

A kiss to your neck and a pair of arms tightening around your waist pulled you from the veils of sleep and your eyes opened to the first light of the day. You had been truly tired last night, then, if you had slept through the waking of the sun – and even now did you not feel fully rested.  
You turned to the man who still kept you within his embrace and softly pressed your lips against his, the butterflies in your stomach stirring and your heart beginning to glow, before the sounds around you began to reach your ears and some of your joy faded away. Whispered words like 'Kingstealer', 'evil temptress', 'whore', and 'slut'. 

You could feel his muscles tense in anger as Loki sat up, and you quickly followed him to keep him from standing. “Let it go, Loki; it's okay.” 

“It is not. I will not let someone speak so lowly of you, my love.” He placed a kiss to your forehead, your fingers keeping hold of his shirt and keeping him from standing. 

“It doesn't bother me. If anything, 'evil temptress' has a nice ring to it, don't you think?” But it was the only word from the list that did not sting. 

“Only I will call you a temptress, and I will do so out of affection. No one shall show you any disrespect.” 

He pulled you to your feet as he stood himself. One glance around told you that the Yllgardian soldier's gazes were filled with aversion and disgust, or even loathing. What, were they disappointed that they couldn't rape you without losing their lives? That they would have to get past Loki and his magic before they could harm you with swords instead of syllables? You kept your expression unbothered and calm; shooting murderous glances had never truly been your trade, after all. 

But Loki's gaze, oh – you could see how their hearts stopped beating in fear. A smile tugged on your lips as your prince's arm took firm but gentle hold of your waist, the men quickly growing quiet, and when Loki lifted his hand with his palm facing up and a dagger appeared hovering above it – you had to keep from laughing at their looks of utter terror. 

Loki lifted his chin and smiled as well, though in a way that made the foreigners shiver. “The next piece of vermin who dares to speak a foul word about her again will lose his tongue, the one after that will lose his head. Are we clear?” Everyone stared at him without the courage to even blink, but you knew your lover would not take silence for an answer. His stance grew more menacing and he even seemed to grow an inch or two as he stared them down, power and magic radiating off of him as his voice grew dangerously low. “Are we clear?” 

A wave of muttered 'yes sir's flowed from the foreign guards before they hurriedly turned back to the saddling of their horses, yet Loki apparently wasn't done yet: he turned to you, pulled you against him, lifted your chin, and kissed you possessively to emphasize his point. It was an understatement to say it stole your breath away.

 

It took a while for your stomach to stop twisting in all the right ways, especially since thoughts of his possessive and protective side ran rampant through your head, and Thor's massive grin didn't do much to help either; but you managed to assist Loki with saddling Egil without getting too distracted. When the raven-haired prince took his place behind you and lay a hand on your hip, however, you were back at the very start - so you did the only thing you could really do to keep the perverted thoughts from conquering your mind: you quickly turned to Dagny for conversation. 

“So you are not coming to Asgard with us, then? I'm sure my parents will take you in, but have you asked Brant about staying in Blacktree yet?” 

Thor frowned and mingled into the conversation, turning his attention to the woman sitting in front of him. “You want to stay in Blacktree?” 

She shook her head. “I don't know yet. I want to see what the village is like, first; how the people are. It would be nice if Brant stayed as well, but... I don't know. I wouldn't want him to give up his job and friends for me.”

Both you and Thor nodded in understanding, and as Thor asked about her reasons for possibly choosing to live in Blacktree you stayed silent and tried to find a way to word your own question – yet you felt selfish. Did you really want her to go somewhere safe so that you could fuck the prince all you liked? Were you really that impatient? Yet the thought of Loki claiming your body in a possessive and rough way sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine, and so when the opportunity came you decided to ask the question anyway. 

“Loki can teleport you there, if you want? To Blacktree, I mean. You wouldn't need to ride for another two weeks and you would have longer to decide, as I'm not sure how long we will stay once we get there.” 

Thor, of course, didn't fully know how deep your mistrust of the Yllgardian soldiers ran or how you yearned for his brother's body, and so he smiled warmly as he spoke up. “I have counted on staying a bit longer, so that you will have enough time to say goodbye to your parents and your village. It would be unkind to give you only a limited amount of time.” 

Dagny was now the one to nod. “Then I won't have to be teleported, but thank you for the offer. And besides, I actually quite like it. Training with you, hearing everyone's stories by the campfire; it's the most adventurous thing I have done in my entire life.” 

And she smiled so brightly and so contently that you regretted ever even considering to send her away from this. But there were still the various kinds of dangers, both from inside and outside the party, and so you turned to Thor again and signaled him to move his horse even closer. When barely any distance was left between the night-black Egil and the pristine white Vænn you leaned a bit to the side – Loki instantly snaking is arm around your waist to keep you from falling - and spoke in a hushed voice. 

“I do not trust the Yllgardian soldiers. They have been glancing at you too often for my liking, Dagny; often with gazes you do not want to see yourself. Please do not go into the woods without me or one of Thor's men at your side. Our training will not be enough for you to fend them off and I do not wish for anything to happen to you. If they do try anything, scream as loud as you can and keep screaming.” You met Thor's eyes and saw understanding: he didn't trust them either. Good. “I know we need these guards for our safety, but perhaps... Perhaps it might be a good idea to hire others at the next city we reach?” 

Thor nodded, and spoke quietly as well. “I have been thinking about sending them back, but it is as you say: we need them for our protection. Once we reach Heimisgard I will be able to find replacements.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes finding Thomas and Bjarke, before he turned back to face you again. “How about those healers; do you trust them? You have spent some time with them, am I right?” 

“They are trustworthy and kind, I do not think they would do anyone harm.” 

He moved a hand over his golden beard. “Then I suppose we could give them the choice of staying or turning back.” 

You hummed in affirmative; Thomas and Bjarke were completely different from the others and probably disliked them just as much as you did. “I will ask for their opinion on the Yllgardian soldiers soon, to see if they share our suspicions.” 

Thor nodded once again, and it was settled.  
A relieved sigh fell from your lips as you sat back and leaned against your lover. You trusted your gut feeling almost without exception – you had done so with Loki, and it had once again turned out to be right – but hearing that Thor felt the same way about the foreigners silenced any leftover doubts: it was definitely not wise to turn your back towards these men. 

The golden prince steered his stallion away from Egil again to avoid crashing into a tree. There was no paved road or even a dirt path for everyone to follow, and so Stigr had gone ahead with a large map inside his hands to lead the way and scout for any dangers. The prince's men formed the inner circle while the Yllgardians were spread out in set positions around them, far away from you and Dagny; which was worthy of another sigh of relief. 

 

Hours and hours passed by without a word being said. It rained for a while, soaking everyone to the bone, but true shelter was still eleven and a half days away and even Loki wasn't able to change the weather with his magic or speed up time itself; yet even though everyone disliked how their wet clothes stuck to their frames no one really seemed to care. A quick stop halfway through, to water both the men and the horses, and to rest a bit before the journey continued. Then, hours and hours more of riding. 

The landscape was beautiful, truly, with its mountains in the distance – your mountains, Blacktree's mountains – and its hills and vales leading up to them. Sometimes the woods would part and unveil a lake, dark and calm as if there were things lurking underneath waiting for a stray traveler to come only a step too near, or a boggy field with boulders and jagged rocks as high as buildings which left those who passed by to wonder how they had gotten there. Sometimes a waterfall could be heard from afar, the water falling down canyons and cliffs, roaring as it found the bottom; other times it was completely silent save for the soft, rhythmic drumming of the horse's footfalls on the dirt and moss. 

But those silences made nerves twist inside your stomach and made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up straight. No birdsong, no rustling of leaves, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Nothing was more terrifying.  
Those silences were the premonitions of danger, the calm before the storm – someone or something was close or had been close not too long ago, the memory of their presence still lingering. Would they – or it – return? Would it follow, lurking in the shadows? Bears and wolves wouldn't dare, but you knew there were far viler creatures out there, out here, beyond the mountains you called home. 

Yet often nothing happened and the noises returned, allowing the tension to flow from the soldier's muscles and their breaths to escape their lungs. 

Slowly the ground began to turn rougher, more rocks scattered about and jutting from the greyish dirt; the vales became deeper, the climbs became higher, the mist thicker, yet the horses had little to no trouble adapting. They had traveled these woods once before, after all – though Stigr did seem to follow a course that differed from the one before. You remembered how emotional he had been the first time you had met him, when he had believed to have put the entire party in danger; how you had slapped some reassuring words at him so that he would leave and you could sleep, and you felt slightly bad for it even though it had seemed to work. He had regained his confidence rather quickly, and today he had appeared no less cheerful than normal - but you would have trusted him even if he hadn't. 

Suddenly you heard something you recognised, and you pricked up your ears to try and find the direction from which it came. The song of this bird had been the background music to your entire childhood and your heart eased a bit at the sound of it, memories flooding back once more. You knew you wouldn't be able to find the creature through the white veil around you, but its song resonated clearly through the air and it was as if your soul translated it, or interpreted it: almost home, almost home, almost home; two words like a chant inside your heart.

 

Until the bird fell silent again, and the rest of the woods with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, the last few updates have come at irregular times. I want to avoid that, and as we're quickly advancing faster than I can write, that means I have to adjust the schedule a bit.  
>  **From now on, I will upload a chapter every FOUR days.** Still on the even number of dates. The time between uploads may someday change to one chapter every week (7 days), but for now I will see how this works out. Thank you for understanding! 
> 
> Recommendations or spreading the word of this fic could help me out a lot! Thank you (●´ω｀●)
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who 'voted' in the last tally. Please remember that the votes do **not** affect the story, as I have already got the entire plot figured out in my head, but I love seeing all your thoughts and theories and it makes me happy to talk to you guys. ♡


	53. LIII

A cry rang out in the distance and everyone's gazes shot towards the east as the horses came to a halt, but the thick fog prevented them from seeing too far. Everyone focused on listening. You didn't dare to breathe. 

Then another bloodcurdling scream, a bit further north, and everyone was shaken from their paralysis. 

Thor drew his sword with slight difficulty as he tried not to harm the woman sitting in front of him and raised his voice to a thunderous level, the look in his blue eyes clear and collected. “Trygve, go find out what happened and report back. Jari, inform Stigr that we might need to attend to our wounded or might need to flee. Everyone else ready your weapons and stay focused!” 

The two men rode out without a moment of hesitation and the determined expressions on their faces made you realise once more that they were soldiers, fighters, prepared and trained for battle, a fact you sometimes forgot as you listened to their jokes and silly stories told with warm gazes and fond smiles. It was as if it were two different sides of them: friend and warrior, and at the moment you were most grateful for the latter.

The silence continued when their silhouettes had been swallowed by the white and the drumming of their horses' gallops had faded, and everyone clutched their weapons while their eyes scanned what little they could see of their surroundings. Dagny was visibly trying not to freak out, having no weapon of her own certainly not helping, and though you knew that Brant would give his life defending her and Thor would fight no less determined for her safety, you still called out her name and stretched your arm out towards her to offer her your dagger, the sharp metal blade between your fingers. 

“Take it,” you whispered.

“W-what about you?” 

“I have my magic.” 

Not a lie, just not a full truth either – you did have your magic, though you were far too tired to be able to use it to its full extent. Even Loki, with his arm still tightly around your waist and his chest firmly pressed against your back, had not seemed too energetic; the magic swirling around him was less strong than usual and he had been mostly quiet all day. Still, Dagny needed every bit of reassurance she could get, and so you didn't let it show. You extended your arm even further. 

“Take it.” 

And she did, her hand shaking as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and carefully pulled it from your grasp, to hold it close to her body. You sent her a reassuring smile, your face calmer than you felt. 

“Remember everything what we did during our training sessions?” 

She nodded. “Stay back, don't attack.” 

“Unless you have no other choice. It's going to be all right, Dagny. These men have trained for years, and-” 

A cry in the distance cut you off. Not much later came another one, but the words were unclear, muted, as if the thick white smothered any and every sound. 

”Run!”

Thor squinted as he peered through the fog, past the dark shapes of the trees, and the thundering sound of hooves hitting the hard ground rapidly grew louder- 

Trygve shot through the milky veil and his distressed horse reared and whinnied. 

”RUN!” 

And without a second doubt all the men forced their horses straight into a gallop. 

A bellowing roar frighteningly close behind made the whole forest tremble and your heart caught in your throat as the sound made your blood freeze in fear – no creature you had ever seen could make such a sound apart from the Dragon of Blacktree, and it was very much dead; but you didn't dare to glance past Loki to see whatever horror was hunting you down. You had been expecting bandits, or mercenaries, or whatever those people were who had attacked you on the way to Yllgard – but you had expected _people_ , not something that made the ground shake with its voice alone. 

You held on to the saddle with dear life as you rushed off together with the others, the party falling apart as everyone tried to get away as fast as possible without letting the mist trick them into slamming against a tree. Iver disappeared left of you, absorbed by the swirling, milky white as he twisted in his saddle and shot another arrow in the direction from which the roar had come – he could only hope it hit target. Thor, Dagny, and Brant swerved to the right and they, too, disappeared. You hadn't seen in which direction the others had gone but there was no one left in sight, no one, and as the sound of their horses faded your anxiety increased in tenfold. What if the creature went after one of them, the slowest of them? What if you wouldn't be there to help them, to heal them, or what if you could find them but you would be too late? What if you and Loki were the slowest?  
Luckily that seemed unlikely, as Egil ran through the woods with such speed it made your eyes water, and Loki held tightly onto your waist with the determination of a man who did not plan on dying today. His magic was perfect for maneuvering his stallion between the appearing trees, and you trusted him to get the three of you out of there alive. 

Another scream – a scream of fear, of agony, of death – but it wasn't a voice you recognised. One of the Yllgardian soldiers who had been stationed behind Thor's men, then.  
You hated yourself for barely caring. 

A yelp left your lungs when a tree flashed by so close you would have lost a hand if you had extended it, and at the very moment the high-pitched sound left your mouth you felt your stomach sink. 

A loud roar came in response, and a shift in the air told you it had changed its path. 

It was hunting the two of you now. 

Tears of heart-racing fear joined the water already streaming from your eyes and you lay your hand on Loki's, squeezed it, as if it was the last time you would feel his touch. You prayed to the gods, beseeched them, begged them almost _desperately_ \- please don't let it be the last time you felt his touch. 

You wanted him to teleport you away but you didn't want to leave the others to their fate, didn't want to leave the others to die. You forced yourself to be calm, to think, to just _think_ \- and realised there was only one thing you could really do: 

You could set the forest ablaze. 

You inhaled exhaled inhaled exhaled, your heart pumping too fast for you to breathe normally, jaw clenching as you gathered all the courage you had. You pulled Loki's arm tighter around you and he obeyed your command without question. Another moment focused on breathing. Then, you shifted sideways, turned around as far as you could, extended your arm, and shot your magic at the trees behind you – which immediately burst into flames. 

Sparks jumped to the canopy and soon the fog took on an orange hue as the fire spread, consumed, thrived on the wood and leaves. You could only hope there was no one left behind you. 

Loki did not slow Egil down, and no response from the creature came. Had it turned around? Had it given up? Had the fire scared it? Had it-

You spotted two blazing amber eyes through the mist, only meters to your right. 

_“Loki!”_

His gaze shot in the same direction as yours and with a harsh tug on the reins he steered Egil sharply left, his other hand rising to the sky as a wall of green fire erupted between you and the creature. 

“Teleport us away – please, Loki, get us out of here, _please!_ ” You didn't care that you were yelling, it would no doubt find you no matter how silent you tried to be. 

Those eyes had been too big for a mountain lion or a bear, far, _far_ too big, and your heart was beating so rapidly it felt like you were close to passing out. Loki pressed his chest against your back, still holding on tight, and he was the only thing that kept you grounded.  
In a flash, you were suddenly somewhere else. Egil neighed in confusion but Loki did not allow him to slow down as you were still very much in the same woods, and Loki's grip was starting to slack. He was running low on energy. 

The creature roared again, further behind, out of sight, but no doubt still on your trail. 

Please don't let this be the end of it all, please don't let this be how you died, you still needed to see your parents and Loki's parents and you still needed to love Loki for years to come before you could leave this realm please don't make this the end for you-

And the ground disappeared below you. 

You couldn't even remember to scream. 

Loki tightened his arm once more as he teleported the three of you to the bottom of the cliff, yet the falling motion prevented him from making a flawless landing and as Egil slid through the vegetation both you and the prince got propelled forward until you crashed into the greenery as well. 

 

The night-black horse stood without apparent injuries and shook the dirt off his coat before trotting over to the two of you, sniffing and nudging each of you to urge you on your feet. Time was limited, time was running out, you needed to get up, _now_. A pained groan rumbled from your throat. Your skin itched with scrapes and cuts and your collarbone was broken, pain like white-hot stings burning beneath your flesh and making it impossible to lift your arm. You needed more time. You stayed down, lay your other hand on the broken bone, and pressed it gently until the two parts aligned again so that you could start healing it, your eyes quickly finding Loki to make sure he was all right.  
He groaned, too, but managed to get up. No broken bones as far as you could see; only a dislocated arm which he pushed back into place with a pained grimace and a disgusting pop, and as soon as he had set the remnants of his magic to healing whatever had been damaged, his eyes searched for you. 

“My lady, are you-” He noticed the hand on your shirt and the magic pulsating around you and immediately worry and pain flashed across his face. He felt responsible.

Yet you had no time to argue as another loud roar shook the earth and echoed through the canyon, and your gaze shot up to the edge of it – to the massive beast that stood there, outlined by the fog. Piercing eyes, antlers like those of a stag, claws like daggers, and two long, sharp teeth protruding from its maw unlike anything you had seen before. Slowly it stalked the edge of the cliff, its massive body pure muscle underneath thick, greyish-brown hide. 

“Loki we have to get out of here-” 

The creature found a ledge and jumped down. 

The black stallion started to grow restless, stomping the ground and breezing with eyes wide, never taking his gaze of the gigantic predator that was easily larger than him. Two more minutes and your clavicle would be healed, and you would be able to jump on Egil's back, pull Loki up as well, and make a run for it. But in two minutes it would have already teared the three of you to shreds. 

No, you were not going to let it end like this. 

You took your hand off your chest and pushed yourself upright, allowing Loki to help and support you, but you stepped away from him as soon as you were sure your legs would keep you standing and continued healing. 

“What are you going to do?” It was more of a warning than a question but you ignored him. 

He was nearly out of magical energy and so he could not teleport again, and you were quickly running out as well. One glance to the left told you it was a dead end and a glance to the right revealed a system of caves, complete darkness within, and as you guessed the creature could both smell and hear better than the both of you it would be suicide to enter them. Climbing up was not possible either, as you would simply be far too slow. Your options were limited.

The predator found another ledge, and moved further down. 

“Stay back.” 

You hoped you still had enough energy for this. 

You set a step in the direction of the cliff, fumbling for your dagger only to realise you had given it to Dagny. Loki's hand found your unharmed shoulder and gently tugged you back. 

“You can't take on a bildshnipe!” 

“I can't let you die, either!” Your eyes were pleading but so were his. “I won't let it end like this, Loki, I can't-” You pushed back the tears and the fear of death that came surging back with them. 

“Fighting a bildshnipe is suicide-”

“So is standing here and doing nothing!” You hated yourself for yelling at him. “We can't outrun it, we can't scare it off with fire, and we can't teleport away. We have no choice.” 

“Then we shall fight it together.” He came to stand next to you, his only dagger clutched tightly in his hand, and your heart ached. If he got hurt, if he died-

No, this was no time to think about that. One misstep, one second too slow, and you would both find the end right at the bottom of this narrow ravine. 

It jumped down the last few metres, its amber eyes fixed on the two of you, and it was almost fascinating to see the muscles move beneath its skin as it stalked closer to the shallow stream between you – if it hadn't been so frightening. You hoped with all your heart and soul it wouldn't dare to cross the water. 

But your prayers went unheard.

It sank its claws into the soft mud and set step by agonizing slow step, head hanging low as its deep growl seemed to make the ground rumble and shake.

Loki raised his free hand. “I could bring the water to a boiling temperature-”

“Wait-” 

You squinted, scanning the luminous eyes of the bildshnipe. Was that... Yes, yes it was, wasn't it? But Why? You set a step closer, loosening your fists. 

“What are you doing, come back!” Loki reached out to grab your wrist but you set another step forward, out of his reach. His voice took on a desperate undertone. “My love, I couldn't bear to lose you; please, return to my side.”

You didn't even turn to face him as you whispered a “you won't lose me” and set the first step into the water. If the creature leaped for you, you were done for. 

But it didn't.

It raised his head ever so slightly, confusion joining the emotions you had seen in its eyes:

Loss, sorrow, agony. 

You lifted your hand, slowly so as not to provoke it, and reached out with your magic. Yes, you could feel it, all of it, though you had no way of knowing what had happened, what had caused its pain. You set another step forward, the water reaching halfway up your shins but running slow enough not to sweep you off your feet. The bildshnipe had stopped in its tracks. It watched you now, tense, waiting, cautious. There was no murder left in its gaze. 

“I won't hurt you. He won't hurt you. Please...” _Please let me come closer._ You didn't speak the words but it wouldn't have understood your language anyway. What it did understand, however, was the emotions you conveyed through the invisible touch of your magic. 

Two steps. Two steps before you reached the creature built for killing prey far bigger than a mere Asgardian. It didn't make sense why it had attacked – you had heard multiple screams, multiple deaths, yet that meant it hadn't stopped to eat them. No, this hadn't been for food, or for survival. 

It had been for revenge. 

One step more, the water up to your knees. You would have no way of escaping if it wished to end your life; but you took the last step without hesitation- 

and it allowed you to lay your hand on its snout. 

Its crushing pain washed over you, rushed through your heart and soul and seemed to tear at your mind, and your face began to itch as tears began streaming without end. Loki was forgotten, the world around you was forgotten, as for a moment you and the creature felt as one. 

“I'm sorry,” you muttered, but your throat clenched shut and nearly prevented you from breathing, and you brushed your fingers on the soft skin between its nostrils. It hesitated a second before it pressed its nose further into your touch, and another sting of heart-clenching pain shot through you. 

“Show me what has happened.” _Show me_. 

It slowly turned around and, step for calculated step, walked out of the stream; stopping and glancing back at you once its nails dug into dry ground again. _Come_ , it seemed to respond without sound; _follow_. But you couldn't – not yet.

_Soon. Wait._

You turned back to Loki, who stood frozen with eyes wide in shock and lips parted in disbelief, fear and worry still the most prominent in the greens and blues of his eyes. He watched you walk back to him, his gaze switching between you and the bildshnipe, his muscles tense as if he prepared for a sudden attack – but it wasn't going to hurt you. 

You lay your hand on his cheek and smiled before pressing a soft kiss to his lips; a promise. 

“I have to go, but I'll be back. Go find the others, make sure they're all right. Tend to the wounded if there are any.” He still didn't speak, didn't know what words there could possibly be to answer with, and so you kissed him once more. “I will be back soon; trust me.” 

“Please, my love...” 

“I won't leave you, Loki. Not in life nor in death. I will be back – healthy, alive. This isn't goodbye, I promise. Make sure the others are taken care of, all right?” 

You let your hand slip from his jaw, trying to ignore how your chest contracted at the expression on his face, 

and turned around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> If you have any questions, you can send an ask to foruneyti.tumblr.com, or you can send an email to EvaldrynnDraws@gmail.com! ♡
> 
> Well, that wasn't as bad as you may have expected, right? The only questions that remain are: what happened? And whose screams rang through the air? Are darker times ahead?  
> Who knows... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	54. LIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore!

You waded back through the water, to the creature on the other side, and bowed your head both in greeting and respect. Your fear hadn't fully gone – how could it, when the predator standing before you towered over you, when its skin was stained dark brown with the dried blood of men you knew, and when its two curved, sabre-like teeth caught the sunlight through the mist? Yet you knew it had no desire to kill you – not any longer. 

It sank through its legs and waited, and only after a short moment of hesitation did you climb onto its back. Even though your collarbone had properly healed it still wasn't the easiest of tasks, especially as you tried not to hurt or annoy it; but eventually you succeeded, and the creature seemed no less calm than before. 

You almost regretted your one last glance back at Loki as it teared your heart to shreds. The way his brow creased, the way the corners of his parted lips were pointing downwards ever so slightly, and still he was oh so incredibly beautiful - your handsome prince, your Loki. And you would return to him, no matter how much he feared the opposite. 

He set a step forward, visibly wanting to come after you but held back by your words, your promise. This was not goodbye, this was _not_ goodbye. 

The bildshnipe rose onto its feet and you barely got a second time to wrap your arms as far around its thick neck as possible and hold on as tightly as you could before it sank through its hind legs and jumped to the fist ledge. The sheer force and speed of its movements nearly sent you flying off and you couldn't help but dig your legs into its flanks, your thighs already starting to burn from being stretched so wide – the creature was quite a bit broader than Egil, after all. But you couldn't spend any magic on it. No, you needed to preserve as much energy as you could, so you clenched your jaw and put up with the aching of your muscles. 

Another jump, and again your hands almost slipped from its rough hide. You tried not to think of the fragility of your Asgardian body and what would happen if you let go and fell down. You tried not to think of the constant danger you were in while riding this animal, or of the blood on it claws. You tried not to think of the dead bodies laying somewhere inside the massive forest that occupied this vale, and you tried not to imagine any of those being Thor's men – your friends, your family.  
But trying was so much easier than succeeding.

The last jump came and you prepared yourself, both mentally and physically; fingers digging into the bildshnipe's leathery skin and legs bracing against the chorded muscles of its side. Adrenaline made your stomach twist when the creature jumped almost straight up and for a moment you feared it was not going to make it, it was not going to reach the edge – until its claws sank deep into the ground and its hind legs pushed it further to crawl onto horizontal terrain.  
You couldn't stop the relieved sigh that escaped your lungs. 

You glanced back, glanced down, into the ravine and at the raven-haired man at the bottom. You couldn't read his eyes from so high up but you knew they would be filled with something akin to despair, and still you did not get off and turn back. This was the right thing to do, even though you didn't know how you were so certain of it.

Two steps towards the tree line, and you could no longer see the bottom of the ravine. 

 

The creature started with a trot but quickly increased its pace, speeding up with every step, faster, faster, _faster_ , until it felt like you were soaring each time it leaped forward. It took you further and further back into the woods; back into the direction from which you had come, back towards the fire you had started. 

The fog still hung thick between the trees and swallowed the world around you, yet... Somehow, you felt safe. Judging by the entire party's reaction no sane man dared to attack a bildshnipe, and as it hadn't yet devoured you, you trusted it to take you wherever you needed to be – wherever it wanted you to be. 

Slowly the scent of burning wood and hot ash grew more prominent, more suffocating, and you pulled the neckline of your shirt halfway up your face to keep from inhaling the smoke; though the only thing that could prevent your eyes from stinging was to close them.  
The bildshnipe continued unperturbed, leaping closer and closer towards the fire, until the temperature rose to the point sweat was beginning to drip down your forehead; the palms of your hands were starting to slide over its hide and your grip began to falter. Even the breeze caused by its running did nothing to alleviate the almost unbearable swelter. 

But it was your own fault.  
You had started this fire, you had set these trees ablaze, and you had caused the destruction of countless plants and animals. Once the fire stopped nature would restore itself, of course; yet you couldn't help the pang of deep regret. It had been a mindless action – and a useless one at that. 

 

Each time its claws struck the earth your bones rattled and protested, the muscles of your groins feeling close to tearing, but you still refused to heal it – simply trying to hold on while this massive animal kept traveling at incredible speed was draining enough as it was. 

Until suddenly the creature slowed down and stopped, a sea of flames blocking your path. 

Not completely insusceptible to fire, then. 

Wait... Fire was some kind of energy, too, right? You pressed your eyes even further shut and reached out with your magic, reached for the flames and clenched your teeth when you felt their intensity. It was true, the light and heat were, in essence, a form of energy, and you immediately began absorbing it; the fire starting to die as your body regained its liveliness.  
You were unable to tell how long it took before the heat and flames had vanished completely – seconds, minutes, an hour; you didn't know. But when you opened your still stinging eyes you could see you had succeeded: blackened trees and scorched ground lay ahead, and apart from some soft sizzling the forest was silent, like a quiet sigh of relief. 

The bildshnipe continued in a steady trot, starting to pick up its speed again, until it suddenly swerved to the left and you had to clench your legs tightly to its flanks to keep from flying off. It strayed from the path the party had traveled and instead took the path the creature had followed in its pursuit. 

It didn't take long before you reached the first corpse. 

Flies already swarmed around the guts spilling from the Yllgardian's chest and abdomen, four deep gashes a hint at what creature had ripped open his skin, and signs of smaller predators having feasted on the gory meal were everywhere: bloody footprints of a fox, tiny claw and bite marks of rodents, and feathers of ravens or crows who no doubt had fought over the juiciest bits.

You bent over the bildshnipe's side and emptied the contents of your stomach, the stench of your vomit joining the stench of death. 

The creature continued, carrying you away from the sight that would no doubt come back to haunt you during the night, and you closed your eyes to try and get your churning stomach back under control. The bildshnipe did not seem to care. It quickly started running again, causing the vile taste to rise up your esophagus for a second time, and you groaned in disgust as a second load of acid left your already burning throat. Not even the water from your flask could wash out the lingering sourness.

But it didn't take long or it slowed down again, and you braced yourself.

Another corpse, the Yllgardian man to whom it belonged unrecognisable as his body parts, guts, and flesh lay scattered between the trees, blood seemingly everywhere. This soldier had not just been killed, he had been _destroyed_. Though there was nothing left in your stomach it did not keep your body from trying to throw it all out for a third time, leaving you gagging and huffing as your chest contracted violently. 

But a wail-like sound pulled you from your misery and struck you with the creature's own deep sorrow once more, and, after regaining most of your composure, you followed its gaze – only for your eyes to grow wide and tears to silently form within them.

There, on the grass covered in thick, dark red, lay the lifeless body of a bildshnipe cub. 

A long but clean cut ran over its back and neck, a cut only possible to have been made by sharpened steel, and you did not need to let your eyes wander for long before you found it: the soldier's stained sword lay a bit further off, shining in the light that filtered through the canopy. From the angle at which the cut was made you knew the man had attacked from atop his horse. Had he killed it for sport? For fun? Your hands clenched into fists and began to tremble, your heart picking up its pace as you felt rage begin to boil your blood. Harming and killing an animal, a _child_ \- you couldn't wrap your head around it. It was barely bigger than a large dog, barely big enough to form a threat. Who could be so heartless? So mindless?  
It hadn't deserved to die like this. 

Then a soft sound reached your ears, and your gaze shot towards the shade. The bildshnipe let out another wail and once more a soft one came in return. There was a second cub. 

You slid off the broad back, careful not to sink through your aching legs the moment your feet touched the earth, and cautiously moved closer into the direction from which the sound had come. The mother followed you, eyes burning on your back, and you knew that one wrong move would mean death. Another quiet cry from the shade.

“I'm here to help you. Can you move? Can you come into the light?” You kept your voice soft and gentle and were careful in the touch of your magic as well, so as not to scare it off. _I'm here to help. Come._

But no response came. You stepped closer, slowly, before your eyes fell on the trail of blood that no doubt led to the youngling. The soldier had wanted to kill not just one, but two of them. Two creatures that no doubt had not done him or his horse any harm.  
You closed your eyes, forced back your rage, and instead sank through your knees; crawling a bit closer until you saw the space between the thick roots of the oak, and the cub that lay within it.

_Come out?_

Yet it just let out another soft cry of pain.  
You glanced over your shoulder at the mother and pointed at the tree, before making a pushing gesture with both hands. You had no idea how intelligent these creatures were, but once you conveyed your intent through your magic and demonstrated pushing the tree once more the bildshnipe seemed to get it, and you moved to the side before you would get crushed beneath its large claws. In a single, almost elegant movement it rose onto its hind legs and let itself fall back down against the tree, dagger-like nails sinking into the bark as the wood croaked and groaned, and gradually the roots became unearthed; rising higher as the tree trunk was pushed down below the heavy weight. Finally light reached the young bildshnipe, and you could examine the injuries up close.

After pulling a rag from your satchel you carefully dabbed the blood away, your heart jumping every time the cub wailed in pain and the mother growled dangerously in response; yet you managed to clean the wound far enough that you could determine its severity, and a relieved sigh left your lips. 

It would live. 

You gave the mother a glance before cautiously reaching out towards her child with both your hands, and when you were sure she wouldn't snap your neck with those massive teeth you lay your palms against its hide and let your magic do its job, the wound slowly but surely closing beneath your fingers. The cub began moving its leg cautiously at first, testing its muscles and waiting as if for the pain to return; but when it noticed that all signs of the injury and the problems that had accompanied it were gone it jumped up and ran past you, towards its mother. 

The sight before you made you smile: how the cub rubbed its head and body against that of its mother in an almost catlike manner, and how the mother responded with loving nudges and licks; before the child turned and came back towards you, examined you, huffing and sniffing as it took in your unfamiliar scent. You held out your hand and let the young bildshnipe investigate it thoroughly, giggling softly when its surprisingly soft snout tickled your palm.

But as soon as it turned and sauntered over to its death sibling your expression fell again.

A cruel death, and so young; it had barely had a chance at life. The mother nudged her dead child softly and another heartbreaking wail left her throat, and anyone, magic or no, would have been able to see the mourning in her luminescent amber eyes. 

Without warning your heartache turned to bitter rage once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfew, only Yllgardians dead. Isn't that a relief? Save for the fact that these mental images will haunt poor Healer, of course. What will she do in her rage? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	55. LV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeny tiny warning for gore

After the young bildshnipe had been safely hidden inside an abandoned bear den you had climbed onto the mother's back again, and had 'asked' her to take you back to the ravine – but once you got there Loki and Egil were nowhere left to be seen. Had he regained his energy and teleported the both of them to the other side, so that they could continue and find the others? Had they gone into the caves? You called out his name but no response came, and when you reached out with your magic and found nothing but rocks and greenery, you asked the bildshnipe to find him. It was without a doubt her strong sense of smell that made her take off without hesitation, running on without a moment to stop and consider which way to go, and it eased your worries. At least one of you knew what to do. 

The fire you had absorbed had provided more than enough energy for you to heal the youngling, and so you finally allowed yourself some relief by suppressing the pain in your muscles and restoring whatever had been damaged – though not without making sure you would have more than enough left. You were going to confront the Yllgardian soldiers with their fellow soldier's cold-hearted stupidity, and if your words were not a thorough warning enough then you would have to demonstrate just how furious you were.  
You felt determination burn almost feverishly inside of you, as if the fire was still alive within your flesh. It couldn't be long before you caught up with the rest, if Loki was with them. Slowly the spaces between the trees grew wider, the clearings growing greater, and the remnants of the swirling fog vanished as the sun beamed down through the larger and larger openings in the canopy. 

Then you spotted them in the distance, crossing a grassy, open field, and you knew you needed to reach them before they entered the woods again. As if the bildshnipe sensed your urgency it leaped into a final sprint. You let your magic flow out to Loki, to announce your near arrival, before spreading it to the horses and soothing them, knowing the presence of the predator would do their calm temper no good. The moment it reached your lover his raised voice rang across the field and everyone halted in their tracks, their heads immediately turning and eyes growing wide. 

You must have been quite a sight to see, riding a massive creature with antlers bigger than any stag could carry and teeth the size of sabre daggers, its thick, chorded muscles shifting with every powerful movement of its legs. 

The beast slowed down, and you straightened your back. First, your gaze found Loki's, and your heart fluttered at the relief and love and impressed pride you saw in it. You gave him a loving look in return. Then, you shifted your eyes to the Yllgardian soldiers surrounding the men you cared for, your expression changing; and you saw some shiver in response. 

“I have found the cause of the attack.” Your voice rang clear through the air, and the undertone of venom surprised even yourself. 

All eyes were on you and the creature which you sat upon, wide and in most cases fearful; though Thor and his men seemed only shocked and impressed instead of truly frightened. There was nothing left of the tough act of the foreigners, and you could feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction settle inside of you at their terror. But the painful truth behind the situation kept you from smiling. 

“A dead bildshnipe cub; _murdered_ by an Yllgardian soldier.” 

Thor's eyes, as wide as they already were, grew even further in disbelief, and his brow pulled closer together as the same outrage you felt now filled every fibre of his being, too. The slaughtering of an innocent creature had put his men's lives in danger, and there was no way he could forgive such a crime. Loki seemed no less infuriated, his magic swirling almost violently through the air around him and his stare sharp and unforgiving. 

“What happened to the two men we lost?” One of the Yllgardians had the audacity to speak up, and for a fraction of a second you considered sending the bildshnipe at him to show him and the others exactly what had happened – yet you forced yourself to calm down lest your rage took over your ability to think. Still, you couldn't keep the hiss from slipping into your voice. 

“They got the dishonourable death they deserved.” 

The bildshnipe growled as if she understood the vileness of the man who had spoken and the truthfulness of the response you had thrown at him in return, her head lowering in a silent but visible threat. One touch of your magic and you could sentence the now cowering man to die beneath her claws. Yet, again, you held yourself back; though only barely – and when you spoke once more you were unable to keep the hate from tainting every syllable that slipped past your lips. 

“I cannot hold you responsible for the deeds of your comrade, yet I will ask of you to look at him as an example. Anyone who makes another mistake like that will not have a bright future ahead of them.” Another low rumble from the bildshnipe's throat, emphasizing your point, and you let your gaze travel over the foreign faces. “Are we clear?” 

They did not dare speak again and merely nodded, faces drained of any colour. You were content with the response, but Thor raised his booming voice and glared at the soldiers. 

“The lady asked you a question.” 

A wave of 'yes miss's quickly followed and you gave Thor a small but warm smile in gratitude, before turning your attention to the bildshnipe. After a gentle touch of your magic she sank through her legs. You carefully slid off her back, set a step back, and she rose again, giving you a last glance to which you bowed your head in gratitude and respect. Though the creature did not copy the gesture, her eyes seemed to speak of mutuality. 

She turned around, and in a few giant leaps disappeared back into the woods. 

Even though innumerable questions were burning on your tongue - questions like 'why would your comrade kill a child' and 'what in the nine realms is wrong with you people' - you kept silent. You would never know what had possessed the Yllgardian as he had taken his apparent thirst for blood into his grave, and causing mutiny when all of you needed protection so desperately did not seem like the brightest thing to do. 

So without even glancing at the Yllgardian soldiers you walked up to Egil, allowed Loki to help you up, and settled behind him; wrapping your arms around his middle. Only one thunderous commando was needed before the whole party began to move again,

and so the journey continued as if nothing had happened at all. 

 

 

After only a few minutes of silence Loki straightened his back and glanced over his shoulder, a sparkle in his eyes as he opened his mouth – but Jari, who rode left of you, spoke before he could. 

“By the realms, miss; is there anything you cannot do? Any creature you cannot tame? When they hear of this the bards will sing songs of it – of _you_ \- for centuries to come!” 

You snickered despite the emptiness you felt. “I think I'm beginning to see a pattern.” His blond eyebrows shot up, curiosity shimmering in the brown eyes below them, and you continued with a small grin that did not feel quite truthful, either. “I think I have the ability to see beyond reputations; to see the 'monsters' for the beings they truly are. The Horrorhorse, a trustworthy steed and a friendly companion; the monstrous bildshnipe, a mother who cares for her cubs;” your grin grew wider and you tightened your arms around Loki, who was no doubt irritated by the soldier's interruption, and let a soft playfulness creep into your voice: “The Dark Prince, an intelligent man very much capable of love, whose heart is softer than he would dare to admit.” 

Jari burst into a fit, his laugh so loud you would almost have missed the fond chuckle from the man sitting in front of you. You pressed your cheek against Loki's back and closed your eyes as you let his scent envelop you, the scent belonging to the man you had feared to lose, and let relief wash over your heart as it all finally seemed to settle. It was over, you were no longer in danger, _he_ was no longer in danger. He was safe.

When you had returned to the group your eyes had swiftly scanned Thor, his men, and the two other healers for any injuries, glad to see none of them had been harmed in any way. You wondered if one ounce more of rage would have made you uncaring towards that fact. If it would have made you lose control.  
How close you had been to letting the creature rip out the Yllgardian throats, shred their bodies to ribbons...  
But now you could rest, truly rest; yet even though your heart felt rather heavy there was too much energy left swirling beneath your skin. You knew there were too many questions burning in everyones minds, anyway, Loki's included, and the distraction would be welcome. You didn't think you could fall asleep soon. You didn't think you would dare to. 

“But how did you do it, miss? Bildshnipe are known for their ferocity, and I don't think anyone has ever rode on their back like you did. Did you enchant it with your magic?” 

Thor and Dagny, riding on your other side, as well as Iver on their right, Brant in front of you, and the two healers behind, had given you their undivided attention; and you could imagine the others strain their hearing to pick up on your conversation. Not that it surprised you. You were now the Woman of the Bildshnipe, or whatever title they came up with. Monster Maiden, or maybe something like Beast Rider. But before you could ponder the possible titles further you realised they were all very much waiting for an answer, an explanation, something that perhaps proved them that miracles did or did not exist. Yet, in all honesty, you didn't even know it yourself. 

“I... I just- I trusted my gut, I think.” You frowned lightly, gaze distant as you searched your memory for any concrete steps you might have followed. “Maybe it was a mix of logic reasoning and instinct, or perhaps it was some kind of magic... stuff...? Something I don't know about yet? I'm sorry, I'm not sure about it myself. I just... did what felt right.” 

But everyone nodded in acceptance, and their positive responses took away some of the slight burden you had felt. You didn't need to be a hero, or a scholar on the subject of magic; you just needed to be yourself. 

“I did manage to sort of convey my intent- to convey that I wanted, through my magic. But that is not really something new; I used it to make clear what I wanted from Egil as well. I think animals may be more susceptible to that kind of thing than we are, maybe because their brains work differently or because they are closer to their instincts...” Your voice trailed off as you stopped yourself before you could even begin rambling, and an apologetic smile tugged on your lips. “I'm sorry, I don't really know anything for sure. Maybe it was luck, or maybe the Gods wanted me to stay alive a little while longer.” 

“Well, whatever it was,” Brant chimed in, “I'm glad you're still here, alive and well.” 

Everyone else nodded or hummed in agreement, and your heart did not feel as heavy anymore. Your smile was truly genuine this time. 

“Thank you.” 

A short silence fell, and Loki took the opportunity to speak up. “The events of today must have left their impact on you, my love. Perhaps you should rest and answer the other questions at the campfire tonight.” 

Your smile only grew fonder at his care for your wellbeing, yet you had underestimated the amount of energy you had absorbed and were very much in need of a way to let it out. 

“It's all right. I will answer everyone's questions now and go to sleep after dinner. There are only a few hours left till sundown.” 

And so, at their eager requests, you began to tell all that happened after you and Loki got separated from the others. You told them of how you had set the woods on fire in a desperate attempt to scare the creature away, parrying their remarks of how fire wouldn't frighten a bildshnipe with the fact that you hadn't known anything about it at all; told them of how both you and Loki had been low on energy, on how you had heard your collarbone snap the moment you hit the ground. You used your storytelling techniques to make their eyes widen and their fingers tighten around the reins as you spoke of how you had spotted the beast at the edge of the cliff, how it had jumped down ledge after ledge, how you had realised that it could very well be the end.  
How afraid you had been to lose it all.  
Loki lay his hand on yours as you told of this, and you could almost feel his relief and his love and his gratefulness through the single touch. He had been afraid to lose it all, too. 

When you continued you reached the part of the story that was new for him too, and you felt his back straighten a bit as he hung onto every word that fell from your lips. You spoke of how you had wanted to fight the creature to the death if it had given Loki the chance to escape, feeling him stiffen even more in your embrace, and about how the screams you had heard had made you change your mind: revenge, not survival. The men huffed or hummed softly as they realised it made sense, nodding their heads but eyes still wide in disbelief, their focus never shifting away from you or your words. 

You told them about the look in the creatures eyes, once more referring to your instinct or gut feeling or whatever it had been, and how you had approached the bildshnipe without weapons or enough energy to fight it with magic. How it had allowed you to come closer, to lay your hand upon its massive snout, how you had climbed onto its back and held on for dear life as it jumped straight up. You spoke of the fog mixing with the smoke, the heat, the flames – how you had absorbed them, extinguishing the fire you had caused in the process, and even without looking you knew that both Thor and Loki were smiling at the slight regret in your voice. _Only a soft-hearted healer could care enough about trees and animals to regret setting it on fire in an attempt to escape near-certain death_ ; their thoughts were predictable. 

Then the image of the first corpse flashed through your head, and you fell silent. 

“What is it?” You could hear the worry in Loki's smooth, silvery voice, and you quickly pulled yourself from the vivid memory. 

“That is... That is when I came across the first body.” 

His hand on yours squeezed softly and for a moment you wished you could switch seats with him, could feel his arms around you and his chest against your back, soothing, calming, protecting you from the horrors inside your head. Tonight, you reminded yourself. Just a few more hours before you could lay in his embrace. 

For now, however, you continued talking. You left out most of the gory details, kept the terrifying image from forming inside their heads and simply mentioned how the second corpse had been a bloodbath, not speaking of the body parts and lumps of flesh lying everywhere, making it seem like the man had exploded. You quickly moved on to the discovery of the second cub, to healing it, and told them the mother had taken you back. They knew what had happened after that. 

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then, Iver spoke up, rather softly. 

“So that is why you sent it back, then? Why you didn't keep it as a pet?” 

You hadn't even thought about keeping the creature at your side, but you nodded. “Even though she would have been a powerful ally, she is still a wild animal that doesn't belong to anyone. She has a child to take care of, she has the freedom of the wilderness – I don't think she would ever be happy as someone's pet.” 

 

More questions followed, and though you could not answer them all the men seemed content with whatever you could tell them. 

Apparently there was not much known about the species. Many who went on a mission to study them did not come back; and if they did, they had rarely learned anything discrete – which left most soldiers at a loss of how to fight them. Iver spoke of how their generals told everyone to pray for a quick death whenever they would spot one, as outrunning or outsmarting a bildshnipe had never been done before, and they would always find those in hiding. Luckily it seemed to be a rather uncommon occurrence, and the megafauna creatures were considered rare. 

No one had started to run out of things to ask yet, but the forest grew denser again and the men had to put more space between each other as trees got in their way, making a group conversation no longer possible. Even though the constant talking had taken its toll there was still quite a bit of absorbed energy buzzing inside your body, too much for you to fall into slumber, and you missed their smiles and questions already – they had kept your mind from wandering back to the blood and the bowels and the flies. 

Yet just before the images could return to haunt you, Loki spoke up. 

“Now that there is no chance of me being rudely interrupted,” his voice was playful, but when he glanced over his shoulder you could see the devastatingly deep relief in his eyes once more. “I'm glad to have you back, my love. If you hadn't returned, I think I might have succumbed to despair.” He moved his gaze forward again, hiding the hurt and vulnerability swirling in his eyes even though you knew it was there. 

You tightened your arms around his waist and pressed yourself against his back. “I'm here, I'm all right; just like I promised.” You closed your eyes and smiled, letting your magic gently intertwine with his to soothe him, calm him, reassure him that all was right. 

He relaxed a bit, his thumb softly brushing over the back of your hand. “During your story you mentioned you were more afraid to die than you have even been before.” A statement, but you easily picked up on the underlying question. _Why is that?_

“You know why.” You pressed a kiss against his back, hoping he could feel it. “There are still too many people I care for - some I care particularly deeply for, as you know - and I do not wish to leave them anytime soon. There are still too many places I want to go, too much I still want to do.” 

An idea struck your mind and, after having glanced around and making sure no one was close enough to see, your smile grew into a mischievous grin. Slowly you moved a hand down his abdomen, smoothened your palm over the leather of his pants and settled it on his crotch - at which you could feel him straighten his back almost immediately. 

“There are also a few things I want to experience a couple of times more before I let death drag me off.” 

He let out a breathy chuckle, his voice dark. “I must say it was more than merely arousing to see you ride a creature so deadly no man has ever dared to try and domesticate it; and when you spoke with barely restrained rage...” He left his sentence unfinished, undoubtedly grinning. “Well, let's just say that pride and relief were not the only things I was feeling that moment.” 

You could feel him grow firm through the leather, and when you softly stroked your fingers over him he let out a sound between a sigh and a groan. 

“If you continue like that, my love, I might not be able to wait until tonight.” 

Yet your smirk only grew wider, and you slipped your hand into his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way to distract yourself than to pleasure your man? ;'D  
> Good thing healer (barely) managed to contain herself, though perhaps a pity for you guys. I, too, would have liked to see them burn into molten heaps of Yllgardian mush. 
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	56. LVI

At last the evening came and the sun began to leave the sky, urging the men to begin setting up the camp before the last rays of light would fade; and as if the Gods granted them mercy they found a spot where the distance between the trees was great enough for the tents to be set up. 

You took back your arms from Loki's waist and let yourself glide off Egil's back until your feet touched solid ground again. The raven-haired prince immediately followed and fastened his steed to a tree, before embracing you from behind and burying his face in your neck. The tension had left his muscles and the slight trauma of nearly losing you had left his eyes after you had... _taken care_ of him, yet it only seemed to spur on his desire as soon as he had recovered, and now that you were once more within his reach there was no way he would be able to keep his hands and his mouth to himself. 

“Let's help setting up the camp first; and when they don't need our help anymore we can go and do other things, all right?” 

He growled softly against your skin. “There are times when you could be more selfish, my love. Those oafs are very capable of setting it up themselves.” 

“Let's at least ask if they could use a hand with something; and if they don't, then I'm all yours for the rest of the evening.”

He hummed in not-too-eager agreement. 

The first you asked was, of course, Thor; yet when he gave you a brotherly pat and a grateful smile you knew what he was to answer. 

“You have saved my men's lives by taming the bildshnipe and saving its child. You have seen fire and death today, and you have faced your fear of dying yourself.” His words were matter-of-fact, but his tone was full of the same, deep gratitude and respect that showed in his sky-blue eyes. “You deserve to rest. ” 

You thanked him, ignored how Loki's smirk was beginning to grow wider, and moved on to Dagny. She, too, told you she didn't need your help as Brant would accompany her to gather wood for the fire, and the Yllgardian soldiers had taken it upon themselves to set up the tents they had brought. Four men already stood on guard duty, Iver was out hunting for food, and tonight Trygve would cook; everyone else assured you they did not need help with gathering moss and leaves for their makeshift beds. 

The prince's expression had gotten more and more smug with every answer you had gotten. 

“I suppose that means you are all mine for the rest of the evening.” He stalked closer, stopping only when he was inches away from you, and let his hands slowly glide down your sides in a way that made your insides twist in all the right ways. “Yet, generous as I am, I will give you one more chance to get away.” He set a step back and held up the palm of one hand, in which a small, light-blue flower appeared. “If you can find one of those before I find you, you will win, and you may request a reward of your own choosing.”

You looked up from the flower and met his gaze. “And if you find me first?” 

“Then you will be my reward.” He nearly growled the words, the smile on his lips playful but the look in his eyes intense, and your stomach twisted so violently at the unspoken promise that your knees almost began to wobble. 

Neither of those outcomes were undesirable to you, and so it couldn't hurt to humour him – besides, you needed the distraction to keep your thoughts from wandering, and you needed the game to get rid of the energy still smouldering within. 

“All right.” His eyes gleamed in delight but you held up a finger before he could speak. “But I do demand a head start. I have no doubt that you can run faster, and seeing as I need to scan my surroundings for the flower as well it means I will be slower than usual.” 

“How does a head start of five minutes sound?” 

“Make it seven – and promise me that this flower does indeed grow in these woods.” 

“My lady doubts me.” But there was still that gleam to his eyes, his stance theatrically exaggerated as he lay his hands on his chest and gave you a faux-aggrieved look. He knew that you were just as aware of the fact that he was a trickster, and it only seemed to delight him further. “Seven minutes it is; and you have my word.” His toothy grin appeared again, his gaze turning a bit darker, and the predatory air returned to his posture. “Go.” 

You dropped your bags next to Egil and you let out a loud, excited laugh as you ran into the woods. 

 

You breathed through your wide smile as you jumped over fallen logs and thick roots, zigzagged through the woods like a wolf on the hunt. This was your terrain, this is what you had grown up with: endless forest, the uneven terrain of a valley between mountains; and though it was not your valley you still felt a bit closer to being home. 

After the primary rush of adrenaline had lessened to a steady hum the first thing you focused on was hiding your magic, or he would be able to find you without an ounce of effort; secondly you focused on scanning the woods as you trusted your feet to keep you upright. It wouldn't be long before the sun would fully disappear from the heavens.  
To hide in which direction you went you walked down through a shallow creek, the flowing water erasing your footsteps, and you only stopped occasionally, to listen if he was close. The disadvantage of hiding your magic so he couldn't find you was that it also meant you couldn't reach out, couldn't let it flow through your surroundings to feel for his presence; it would easily give your location away. So you had to be quick, had to be silent, had to listen to what the wind whispered through the leaves.  
You realised you had missed this.  
When you were younger you used to play in the woods, catching crickets and following butterflies with Audun, running and laughing and tumbling through the grass and dirt. Playing hide and seek, seeing who could spot a deer first, or a fox. But with the years you took on more responsibilities regarding the shop, until it had been the only thing you had had time for.  
Sure, you had gone wandering into the woods under the guise of gathering herbs and weeds, and of course you had snuck out some times to watch the sunset from further up the mountain or to train your abilities far away from anyone to see, but rarely had the adrenaline been pumping through your veins like it was now, and rarely had your grin been as massive. 

You jumped and soared high and far over a natural trench in the ground, your arms spread wide as if to mimic wings, to mimic flying, and after a perfect landing you continued your race against your chaser; who was still nowhere to be seen. Your insides stirred in anticipation at the thought of him finding you. Should you just let yourself be caught? Yet at that moment your eyes spotted the flower you had been searching for – 

but it was red, not blue. 

You walked over to the slight clearing in which it grew, catching the last rays of sunlight through the opening in the canopy above, yet you hesitated to step past the tree line. What if it was a trap? What if it was one of Loki's tricks? Your grin grew smug and you backed up, before turning around and starting to run again. If it truly was the right species, then the blue type would no doubt grow in the same conditions: in clearings, where the sun could reach the ground. 

It was almost as if you could hear him chuckle darkly inside your mind, and your determination to win came back in tenfold. 

The light began to fade and it was getting harder and harder to see; soon you would no longer be able to tell red from blue without close examination. Creating a makeshift torch would be the same as screaming for him to come and find you, yet slowing down would give him the chance to quickly catch up on you. Your chances of winning looked slim – but you were not giving up. 

You stopped, looked up, and decided which of the highest trees would be easiest to climb before grabbing hold of a branch and hauling yourself up. Another advantage of yours: as some medicinal plants grew only high up in the canopy you had had to climb trees so often that you had developed quite the skill. With motion after fluid motion you put more and more distance between you and the ground, until the leaves swallowed you, enveloped you, and then parted again; and a total view over the forest appeared. 

For a moment the game was forgotten as your smile grew fond. The sight of mountain ridges, of the woods spreading out on every side, of the sky growing dark above you and the first of the stars appearing; until the purpose of your ascend came back to you and you lowered your gaze to the sea of green.  
Within moments you spotted the signs of a clearing in the near distance, much larger than the one you had just come across. You guessed the distance, and started on your way back down. 

Before leaving the tree you checked your surroundings for movement and pricked up your ears for sounds, and only when nothing caught your attention did you drop yourself - yet the moment your feet touched solid ground you sank a bit through your knees and sat as silently as possible, keeping a tight rein on your magic. 

You had the feeling he was close. 

The hairs in the back of your neck stood on end and another rush of adrenaline surged through your system, your stomach twisting and turning pleasurably as you knew you could be caught any moment. Nowhere was there a pale-skinned prince in sight, however, so after another quick scan of the growing darkness your turned and made a run for it. You didn't even look around you anymore. You just ran, faster and faster, feeling like your defeat was nipping at your heels. You had to reach the clearing; it was your last chance at winning the game. 

Not much farther, not much farther- 

Until you breached the tree line, and a field of flowers greeted you from underneath the twinkling stars. 

They were all red. 

“Shit!” 

“Such a foul mouth.” 

You turned with a soft gasp, your heart pounding as Loki stepped from the shadows, and he chuckled. 

“I have come to claim my prize.” 

He elegantly set a step closer. And another. 

Yet before he could set the last step you turned back to the field and ran, laughter bubbling up from within your chest.  
You didn't get far before you could feel two arms around your waist and a high pitched yelp interrupted your guffawing, his laughter joining yours as he pulled you down with him into the grass; where his chest softened your fall and his kiss took away any regrets of crushing the beautiful flowers as his taste made your mind go hazy. So many emotions rushed through you as he conveyed them through his kiss: lust, excitement, joy, relief, possession, love. 

You turned further around and straddled his hips, pressed your bosom against his armour-clad chest and ground your hips over the leather of his groin and the large bulge you could feel underneath it. The groan he gave in response sent butterflies erupting within your stomach and you pressed down harder, wanting more of those sounds to reach your ears, wanting to make him feel good- 

but he grabbed a hold of your waist and turned the two of you around, so that he was now the one on top. 

“It is my turn to take care of you. I will make your body quiver with pleasure as you have done with mine, and I will take my time doing so.” 

You couldn't help but grin even though your insides were going insane. “Hm? Like you promised the first time, only to lose yourself so quickly?” You kept your voice perfectly playful, to make sure he knew you hadn't minded it in the slightest. 

He chuckled. “How could I be to blame? I had desired you for weeks and was suddenly told by none other than yourself that you are in love with me, that you are attracted to me in the same ways I am attracted to you. That alone could have sent me into a frenzy, my love.” He brushed a hand lovingly over your cheek, his blue-green eyes seeming to shine in the light of the stars. “If you had not told me I was your first, I might have lost myself even sooner and might have hurt you in my... outburst of passion, if you will. I might have forgotten to be gentle at all.” 

You smiled back at him, hoping your gaze showed him how you felt. “Thank you - for being gentle with me, I mean. I don't think my first experience could have been any better.” A blush began to form on your cheeks as you tried to find the right words. “But now that I am more... accustomed to it, there's no need to worry about it anymore; I think I could handle your wilder side. I think... I think I might actually like it.” Your voice was soft and your face felt like it was on fire, his dark chuckle not helping. 

“I could never deny my lady her wishes.” His grin was nothing short of wolfish. “So tell me, how do you want me to fuck you?” He nearly growled it, grinding his hips over yours to punctuate his words and making you mewl. “Slowly, gently, romantic as we lay in a field of flowers underneath the bare universe? Or rough and hard like beasts?” He softly bit down on your neck and you moaned softly, trying very hard to for a coherent sentence. 

“Both-” You let out another soft cry when his teeth left another mark. “Both sounds good. Show me your wild side, then make love to me underneath the stars.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some well-deserved fluff ♡
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	57. LVII

And he kept true to his word. Where first he let go of any control and fucked you roughly, pounding into you so deep and hard it had been nearly impossible to keep the loud cries of pleasure from escaping your lungs, he then spent what felt like two full hours touching and loving you gently; making sure to remind you of how much he cared for you through soft moans, long licks, fond glances, loving smiles, and the caressing of his fingers. The scent of the flowers had mixed with the sweet smell of sex, with the smell of sweat and the mid summer breeze, and the stars flickered brightly above the two of you as you lay in each other's naked embrace with eyes closed in bliss. This was how you wanted to spend eternity. This was with whom you wanted to spend eternity. 

When, after you did not know how long, you opened your eyes again and shifted ever so slightly to glance at the prince, you were once again reminded of his godlike beauty. His raven locks clung to his neck and face, a stark contrast against his pale skin that seemed even paler in the light of the crescent moon, and the slender fingers splayed out across his softly rising and falling chest were only an example of the deeply rooted grace he seemed to possess - he seemed too good to be true, too ethereal to be real. For a fraction of a second your heart dropped again in fear of your mind making all of this up, of hallucinating it all, and you pressed yourself closer against him. Would you ever feel convinced of his existence? Would you ever have that unshakable confidence that he would not vanish into smoke? 

As if he could read your mind he turned onto his side and took you further into his arms, keeping you firmly against his body, and softly breathed the hoarse words against your skin. 

“Should nothing but us end up existing, I would not mind it in the slightest.”

“A realm of our own, no oafs or half-wits around,” you replied with a smile, and he huffed a soundless chuckle into your hair. 

“Exactly.” 

You heard him keep in his breath for a moment and you waited for him to speak again, only for your eyebrows to pinch a bit closer together when he didn't. He exhaled, and continued breathing like before. Had the words gotten stuck in his throat? Had he changed his mind whether to say them out loud? What had it been? Yet no two seconds had passed and it all left your mind again, your eyes falling shut once more. The aftermath was still too strong to give curiosity a chance to settle.  
You had lost count of how many times he had managed to send you into oblivion, or how many times you had taken him with you - a personal record, you were sure of it. 

A smile began tugging on your lips again and you gave him a kiss on the dip of his throat before languidly pushing yourself up, your arms no longer shaking yet still weak, and he opened his eyes to scan you, not quite letting go. 

“Stay a bit longer.” 

His voice was calm, yet there was a hint of silent desperation hidden beneath it: _don't go, don't leave me._ Still his insecurities had their grip on him. You leaned back down onto your arm and lay your free hand on his cheek, bringing his thin lips to yours for a moment. 

“We should go wash ourselves before we fall asleep, my prince. I would like to spare us the embarrassment of being found naked when they come look for us in the morning.” 

Not to mention that the cool midnight air had made the mix of both your essences dry on the inside of your thighs, and the feeling was not entirely pleasant. You pushed yourself back up on your bum and stretched your arms above your head, yawning widely, before putting your hands on the dirt – but you didn't move onto your feet. 

Instead you sat frozen, stunned, as you looked at the sea of flowers surrounding you – a sea that was now no longer red, but blue. 

Your mouth fell open and the corners curled up in a semi-offended smile as you turned to the man laying beside you. 

“I _did_ win, you bastard!” 

For one tenth of a second you saw the slight confusion in his gaze - until he realised what you were getting at, and a grin split across his face. 

“I suppose the reward was too enticing to risk losing the game.” 

You softly smacked your hand against his side. “You promised me the flower grew in this forest-” 

“And, as you can see, I did not lie.” His grin only grew wider. “I merely used an illusion to trick you into thinking it was not the colour you were after.” He pushed himself up on his rear as well, picking one of the flowers beyond those you had squashed with your weight, and gently slid it into your hair. “I am the infamous Trickster, after all.” 

You gave a good-natured sigh. “It is not like you can return your reward.” 

“Yet I am sure you did not mind my victory.” His smug face was almost unbearable, and you rolled your eyes at him – yet not without a grin of your own. He spread his arms, hands with palms facing up, in some kind of gesture of reconciliation. “I will keep my promise, however. Choose whatever reward your heart desires.” 

_Marry me._

You wanted to say it, your heart and soul seemed to _scream_ it, yet doubt kept the words from slipping past your lungs. What if you weren't ready yet? What if he wasn't ready yet? You hadn't even met his parents, for Yggdrasil's sake! No, the time was not yet right. 

“Hmm...” You lay your index finger over your lips, your gaze thoughtful. “I can truly choose whatever I want? No limits?” 

“Ask for the moon, and I will bring it to you. Ask for the stars and I will make them into jewelry for around your neck. Ask for the universe, and I will make of it a cloak to wrap around your shoulders. No limits, my love; only those your mind may set.” 

Your heart glowed, warmth and light diffusing into your skin - he would stop at nothing to give you what you wanted, no matter how impossible it would be to fulfill your request. But the thought reminded you of the morning at the marketplace and Thomas' words rang clear inside your head: 

_Tell him what bothers you, and he will go to the ends of the Nine and far, far beyond to ease your mind._

 

A statement that felt more true than ever, after the promise Loki had made you. Later, you told the uneasy feeling in your gut; later, when both of you were well-rested, you would consider talking to him about it again; not now. Not now his eyes were sparkling in anticipation. 

Yet after a few heartbeats your heart still hadn't found for anything to ask. “I... I don't think I want anything. I need nothing more than I already possess.” You looked up to meet his gaze, your smile soft. “I have my family, my friends. I have you. What more could I possibly need?”

He copied your smile, delicate fondness swirling in his eyes, before playfulness took over in the greens and blues and his expression shifted ever so slightly – smug and mocking. “No riches? No silver or gold?” 

You knew what answer he expected, and instead decided to take a little bit of sweet revenge – the kind he would no doubt find rather welcome. 

“You are my silver, Silvertongue, and your love is worth more than all the gold of the Nine together.” 

You placed a quick, teasing kiss on his lips, then bit down on your own as you couldn't help but smile at the surprise that made him freeze, and gave him a cheeky wink before standing up and gathering the clothes that lay strewn around. It took him only a second to recover and follow. 

“There are other things I can offer as a reward.” He hugged your from behind and kissed your neck, his hair tickling softly against your bare skin, his member half-hard against your bum once more. 

“I am quite satisfied, my prince; how you are this insatiable is beyond me.” But you grinned and leaned back against him nonetheless. The feeling of his arms around your waist was something you would never grow to dislike. “And if I were to ask for a reward, it would be something I cannot get by simply calling you 'my Loki'.” 

He pulled your hips even further against his, his cock twitching as he growled his response against the crook of your neck. “You can already get anything by speaking those words, my love.” 

A chuckle escaped your lungs as you glanced at the field of flowers spreading out around you, feeling his lips against your skin, the soft breeze through your hair. You wanted to etch every detail into your brain so as never forget these memories. To never forget him, should he slip through your fingers and fade. 

“Then I guess the honour of winning from the handsome and intelligent Trickster Prince himself shall be my only reward.” 

 

The two of you made your way to the stream you had passed during your search; and while walking through the woods in the nude was a rather strange thing on it's own, having an equally naked member of the royal family walking beside you made it even more absurd. But, by pressing your lips tightly together, you managed to reach your destination without bursting into laughter. 

 

A hiss escaped through your teeth when you stepped into the cold water, your feet sinking a bit further into the mud. This was the stream where you had-

“A clever move, trying to hide your tracks by following the water.” 

But before your eyes could find your lover water poured down over your head and you took in a loud gasp, goosebumps spreading almost violently over your arms. His fingertips slid through your wet hair, and soon another load splashed onto you. 

“Loki!” You turned around and hit the back of your hand against his stomach, earning you a soft 'oof' and his clear laugh that followed after. 

“Always so violent-” 

You splashed water into his face and moved out of his reach, laughing through your shivers and bending down for the next assault; but Loki recovered and moved quicker, sending another wave right over your head and back as his laughter joined yours. 

“You're unfair, with your Frost Giant resistance against cold,” you griped with a grin as you dodged the spray of water, only to return the attack with both your hands. 

He evaded with effortless grace. “Then come here and allow me to warm you up again.” His smirk left no doubts as to what he meant. 

You set another step away from him, careful not to be within his reach or you knew you may never get to the camp before sunrise. “That would be the opposite of cleaning up! Is your thirst ever fully quenched?” 

But his dark eyes raked over your body and his arrogant stance only grew more cocky as he leaned back a bit, his smile begging to be kissed – much like the rest of him. 

“Not when I am with you, my love.” 

You rolled your eyes but grinned still, not able to help feeling flattered. This man was going to be the death of you. But your body had finally gotten used to the cold and the goosebumps had receded, allowing you to clean yourself without shivering, and though you kept an eye out for any surprise attacks Loki let you be and busied himself with washing as well. 

 

After getting into your clothes the two of you walked back towards the camp, your hand in the crook of the elbow he had offered you and your weary mind at peace. Though the physical exhaustion was only to be expected, it was like your magical energy had lessened as well. You had used quite a lot of your magic today, with setting fire to the forest and absorbing it all again, and the healing of your collarbone – yet still; shouldn't some of it have been replenished? Perhaps you had used too much, or your body was too tired to generate more, or however it worked. You would ask Loki tomorrow.  
Because when the tents finally came into sight you felt the last of your strength slowly seep from your legs, Loki's arm the only thing that kept you from sinking through them, and after he had gently lowered you on a mossy bed that must have been prepared by the others you could feel the last of your resolve to stay awake dissolve in the embrace of your raven-haired lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's such a mischievous little shit and I love him ♡
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	58. LVII

When you awoke, your magic was still drained. 

Sure, your body was as well-rested as you could expect, but this exhaustion ran deeper – the type that, despite feeling fine and lively enough, still made you want to stay in bed all day and sleep. Why wasn't it restoring? Was this the second symptom of your possible disease? Would Thomas and Bjarke know? No, that was unlikely.  
So you closed your eyes and pushed all worries aside for a bit. Loki was still holding you, everything was fine, you were fine. 

“Good morning.” 

He was somehow always able to tell when you were awake. 

“Good morning, Loki.” 

“Something is on your mind.” 

And, somehow, he always managed to figure that out, too. 

“It does not have anything to do with your nightmares, does it.” His voice was soft, still a bit rough from the long night, and gentle concern laced his words. 

Still you hesitated to tell him. Worrying wouldn't do good to either of you, anyway; and besides, you may just be impatient. Maybe you should wait a bit longer to give it some more time – magic was powerful stuff, after all. But if his magic hadn't even been slightly restored, either, then it couldn't be a symptom, right? Yet did you truly want to know whether you were the only one affected? 

You rolled around in his arms to face him, retuning his gentle kiss before resting your forehead against his, and decided to shove all thinking aside. “It's just that I feel like my magic hasn't restored at all. Has yours?” 

“It hasn't.” His tone was matter-of-fact, yet a barely noticeable undertone gave away how he was straining his mind to come up with an answer, or a solution. 

“Yet you were still able to cast those illusions yesterday.” 

“Illusions cost me far less than things like teleportation; even if I had barely had anything left I would still have been able to trick you into thinking those flowers were red.” He lay a hand on your cheek and lovingly brushed his thumb over the skin beneath your eye.

A smile tugged on your lips but only a small one, as the situation stirred some kind of premonitious dread within your stomach. You relied on your magic far too much – had done so ever since it had come into your life – and without it you felt defenseless, fragile. You were prone to getting in trouble, after all; and those troubles seemed to have gotten more and more deadly over time. Were you even able to use your ability now that your magic had been depleted? It always left you exhausted afterwards, though you couldn't remember in what way. It had been such a long time-

“I have a theory as to what may be causing this,” Loki interrupted your thinking, and your eyes focused again. 

“Is there a way to stop it?”

“There is, if I'm right.” 

“And... and if you're not?” Your voice was small, quiet, as if you were almost too afraid of the answer to pose the question out loud. 

You were far from faithless when it came to his abilities yet you had no way of silencing the fear completely. If your magic would never return, then what was left of you? A healer that could only sit by and idly watch while her patients died of their injuries and diseases? Were you even able to truly help people without your magic? Were you even worthy of being called a healer, when all you would do was giving them medicine and hope for the best?  
You wanted it back – you _needed_ it back, because without it people you cared for may die.  
Because without it, you were worthless. 

“Don't worry, my love; I will find a way.” He kissed you once more, softly, reassuring, before purring the rest of his words against your lips. “And once it had been restored, we will have to celebrate it.” 

You felt the lightest touch of his magic slide over your skin and you shivered despite the lack of its usual intensity, his promise still as clear as day, and you responded with a playful smile. 

“That goes without saying, my prince.” 

As you didn't dare to return the gesture out of fear of extinguishing your magic completely, you slipped your fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and slid them up over his abdomen and towards his chest, causing the fabric to hike up. Pleasantly cool, fingertips tracing the slight hills and vales of the muscles not fully hidden beneath his slender build. Your prince.

Though you could see the desire in his eyes he managed to keep himself from ravishing you, and instead he got out of bed, brought you your bags, and changed - with no magic involved. You chuckled silently at the thought of him riding all day in his nightwear; yet, hilarious as it may have been, it was a good thing he hadn't made his armour vanish. 

No one could know the two of you were nearly powerless. 

 

After swallowing a good deal of herbs you changed as well; yet from one rather dirty set of clothes into another. The party rarely ever stopped long enough for you to be able to wash your clothes and let them dry, and, since you didn't want to wear your good (and impractical) dresses while riding, it left you with nothing but the used and re-used sets of garments that you had worn ever since leaving Blacktree. You hoped you didn't stink too bad, though the soldiers were probably very much used to sweat and Loki had not uttered a word about it – yet still. 

He seemed to notice the slight disgust in your eyes as you pulled on your shirt, and nodded – more to himself than to you. “I will have fine sets of riding clothes made for you as soon as I can teleport again.” 

And, before you could even open your mouth to argue it was not worth the money, he placed a kiss on your lips and left the tent. 

 

One of the Yllgardians had made breakfast this time and you felt slightly bad for distrusting it, yet it was only to be expected, right? They had shown nothing but silent – and sometimes even audible – dislike and mistrust on their own part, and they had only caused trouble so far. You even wondered if they would put energy into defending any of you should danger arise, or if they would only care about themselves. 

In all honesty you just wanted them gone.

Yet none of these thoughts left your mouth, not while waiting for your bowl to be filled and not while sitting down beside Dagny. You even tried to hide how you sniffed the food to test for any poison, digging in only when you were convinced it was safe. The day the Yllgardian soldiers were gone couldn't come soon enough. 

“You look a bit tense.” 

Dagny studied you for a few seconds, no doubt noticing the dark circles beneath your eyes, yet luckily came to a different conclusion than the one you thought most obvious. Her air of innocence fully faded as her playful glance only enhanced the grin that made the corners of her lips curl up. 

“Or has he worn you out so thoroughly last night?” 

You couldn't help but smile. 

“Are vulgar subjects your favourite?” 

“Oh most definitely,” she answered without even needing to consider it, “and I love how it makes you go red in the cheeks. It tells me all I need to know.” 

You rolled your eyes and huffed a laugh, trying to wipe that colour off your face yet knowing your attempts were unsuccessful. “Great, another one who enjoys teasing me for my reactions. Will I ever know true peace?” 

You let out a dramatic sigh, the effort to keep your faux-miserable frown in place slipping when her unrestrained laugh rang through the air – high but not unpleasantly so, almost musical, birdlike. It was good to see her so at ease.  
Past Dagny, standing a bit further off with Trygve, you caught Brant glancing over in surprise, their conversation momentarily interrupted; and his gaze grew fond as soon as his eyes settled on his smiling sister. It was good to see him like that, too. 

It would only be cruel to make them worry, to tell them about the nightmares that had made you wake up crying during the night. If Loki had not been there, had not held you, kissed you, whispered to you in that silver honey voice of his, you might not have gotten any rest at all.  
So you returned your focus to the woman sitting beside you and grinned bashfully, not fully an act yet not fully honest, before responding with a hushed and playful voice.

“I couldn't keep anything secret from you now, could I?”

“Not when he keeps leaving his marks on you, no.” Her grin grew wider as she shifted her eyes to your neck, your fingers swiftly following. “There are so many it almost looks like you fell onto a stack of pointy rocks; and I bet that there are many more in places we can't see them.” She let out another melodic laugh.

Loki really hadn't kept any restrains on himself last night, had he? A genuine smile found its way onto your lips and another rush of heat flared across your cheeks as it all came back, your stomach tingling and fluttering. How his lips had found all your sensitive spots, how he had nipped and sucked on and around them, and how his teeth had more than once sunken into your flesh to remind everyone to whom you belonged should they see the colours it left. 

“It's cute.” 

You blinked, shifting your eyes from your half-full bowl to her face. “Cute?”

She hummed positively in response. “To see two people so deeply in love. He can barely keep his eyes off you whenever you're around him, let alone keep his hands to himself, and everyone knows that you're thinking about him whenever you take on another one of those dreamy expressions of yours. And when a blush appears as well, we all know what you're thinking about then, too-” 

You nearly choked on your food and brought your hand to your mouth to cover your violent coughing, but it only made Dagny snicker. 

“Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Even though your face is an open book sometimes, you're not _that_ obvious.” 

“Thanks,” you responded with a voice that was both low with sarcasm and rough from the coughing that had grated your trachea, but there was a smile on your lips nonetheless. 

 

After a while breakfast had been had and all stomachs had been filled, yet no orders had been given to pack up yet and the men began casting glances at the large tent set up in the middle of the camp. Ever since Loki had gone in this morning neither he nor Thor had come out again, and both Rangvaldr and Jari had not left their posts at the closed entrance. You were the only one who had a solid guess as to what was going on inside – most likely a discussion about Loki's theory concerning both your weakened magic and its causes – but the others were left clueless; and the Yllgardians were starting to grow impatient. Their eyes shot towards the tent more and more often, and more and more often there was annoyance and indignation within them. It was difficult to keep the antipathy out of your own gaze whenever you noticed it. Never had you felt the desire to punch someone so strongly.

Yet the moment when you started wondering whether to go in or not to distract you from your violent urges, the flap was pushed to the side and the two men emerged. Thor stepped forward and all eyes followed as he had the entire party's attention, his shoulders straight and his face neutral. You recognised the expression, the determination, as you had seen it moments before the bildshnipe had attacked.

“We will not leave immediately, as I have something else to ask of you – of all of you.” 

He let his gaze wander over both his men and the Yllgardians amongst them, his entire air that of a crown prince and commander that deigned no disobedience. This was the part of him that would rule over Asgard in times of trouble, or times that needed a direct approach. The part of him that would command the Asgardian army should war come to his realm.  
If anyone had had any doubt whether he was fit to be a king, you were sure it had vanished by now. 

Your gaze shifted to the raven-haired prince still standing before the entrance to the tent, but he seemed too caught up in his thoughts to notice it and meet your eyes. What was he planning? Was the risk truly that great that, no matter how he tried to hide it behind his casual stance, even he seemed on edge? Yet he seemed to focus back on reality again, and answered your worried stare with a smile that was not fully reassuring. 

Thor raised his voice once more, his order clear as it rang through the woods and reached his men. 

“I will need you all to lay your possessions out onto the ground.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	59. LIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahhhh I am so sorry! I totally forgot to upload! It has been silent on AO3 and my head has been total chaos, so it slipped right through my fingers. The uploading schedule will continue on the same dates, so at least you'll get the next chapter a day 'early' heh. Sorry guys!

All their possessions... displayed? But-

“That is a violation of our rights to personal privacy!” 

You recognised the man that had spoken up, the man that had done the same when you had returned on the bildshnipe's back. From all the Yllgardians he was the most obnoxious one, the loudest, the one with the most hateful glares and condescending scoffs; the one that kept throwing Dagny lewd smiles the most often of them all. He brought out the darkest parts of you. He made your hands clench into fists, made the urge to grab your dagger back from your friend and slit his throat boil up within your gut. He made you want to kill someone for the first time in your life. 

No – not the first time; not even the second, now you thought about it. 

Because if you had been able at that time, you would have gladly killed the raider that had sliced open your mother's stomach; Ylva's death would not have bothered you greatly, either, by your hand or someone else's – and for all you cared the stranger with the intense eyes could drop dead as well.

Did you truly carry that much hate within you? Did you really have it in your heart to take a life? The thought made bile rise in your throat and fear surge through your veins. How much did you truly know about yourself? You had always thought... had always assumed that you were a good person, one who tried to be kind, to be positive, to be someone who helped. Was that only an illusion? Were you, at the core, vile and rotten like the man staring daggers at Thor? Or was this... was this normal? You didn't know. You didn't know, and it frightened you. 

Perhaps it was the exhaustion talking – or the fear that was left simmering inside your brain after the nightmares had come and gone. Maybe it was the vulnerability you felt at the absence of your magic. You just needed to calm down, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. This would come later. 

“It is not when I fear some of my people are in danger.” Thor's voice was like rumbling thunder, a warning. “My order still stands, I recommend that you answer to it as soon as possible.” The blue of his eyes was cold and sharp like ice, but it thawed when he shifted his gaze around again. “The sooner we get this done the sooner we can climb onto our horses again, and the sooner we will reach proper shelter.” He turned to you and Dagny, his gentle smile assuring that the two of you did not need to participate. 

Though the Yllgardians hesitated, his men obeyed without a moment of doubt; grabbing their bags and sacks and even laying their flasks and weapons on the grass between the trees, until everything but the clothes they were wearing lay on display for everyone to see. They had nothing to hide. They had nothing to fear, either, as they knew their comrades would not judge for the little trinkets that reminded them of home, or the tiny souvenirs they had bought for their lovers or their family. Even when Jari lay the miniature wooden keychain carved in the shape of a phallus beside his sword, he only grinned; and his friends grinned with him. 

At last the Yllgardians joined, and within ten minutes all possessions lay on the grass. The carefully arranged bottles and cans of Thomas and Bjarke shimmered in the light that fell through the canopy, herbs and ointments within them; and there was no doubt they did not fall under Loki's suspicion, as they possessed nothing of interest. The raven-haired prince scanned each and every object as he walked past them, yet touched none. 

Until his eyes fell on a pendant, a dark ochre stone over which a tree was drawn in golden paint, and the colours of his eyes took on a dangerous hue of venom. 

“I am glad to see that my theory was correct.” But his words were sharp, and when he lifted his gaze to the owner of the amulet – an Yllgardian with almost as much attitude as the man who kept raising his voice – it looked as if one wrong move could very well mark the soldier's end. “This will need to be destroyed.” With one elegant wave of his hand he indicated that the others could pack their stuff again and began to turn away.

The man's eyes widened and rage began to shimmer within them, his shoulders squaring and his chin raising ever so slightly. “You have no right.” 

Loki's snapped back around, and the rage in his posture was nearly as frightening as the time when he had lifted Erlend off the ground with a single hand, the promise to end his life burning in his eyes. “Oh I have every right. I have the right to throw you into the dungeons as well. Do you realise in how much danger you have put everyone, or is your brain simply too small to allow for any kind of logical thinking?” 

Without warning he pulled his dagger from its sheath and all the Yllgardians lunged for their swords scattered amongst their possessions on the ground, yet Loki did not lattack the soldier – instead he lifted the blade, sunk through his knees, and slammed the metal through the pendant. 

Light exploded around him, then furled up and twisted into itself, until it vanished.

Slowly he rose, and sheathed his dagger again. He seemed a bit more calm though the venom had not left his expression yet, and when he spoke it still dripped into his voice. “Well done, you are the most ignorant hypocrite of the entire party.” He grinned, though 'baring his teeth' would be a better description, and it sent shivers down everyone's spines. “A magical amulet to protect against magic. I'm surprised they still make valid ones in your kingdom.” He glanced down at the shattered pieces without lowering his chin, then turned around and strode past Thor, past everyone else, as he made his way to you. “Thank you brother, the problem has been solved. They are all yours.” 

Thor nodded. “Everyone gather your possessions again and make yourselves ready, we will leave in an hour.”

 

You followed Loki into the woods, nearly running to keep up with his long, merciless strides. “Loki, where are you going?” 

The camp was now far out of sight, far out of earshot, and you wondered whether he needed to vent with no Yllgardians around to hear him-

He pushed your back against a tree and claimed your mouth almost forcefully, pressing himself against you, lifting your leg to his hip and grinding his crotch against your core to which you could only gasp in response. 

“L-Loki-”

He barely gave you the chance to breathe before he resumed the kiss again, his tongue sliding against and over yours as if he wanted to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands found their way to his pants and tried to undo them, fumbling and tugging until Loki let out an impatient growl and took care of it himself, allowing you to make quick work of your own just in time before he pulled your shirt over your head and threw it to the side. He was no more patient when it came to the linen wrapped around your chest. His mouth moved to your neck as one hand found your breast, the other still planted against the tree trunk to which his hips held you in place, and you sighed and mewled as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, fire shooting through your body and pooling between your legs. You bucked against him, were in sudden need of him, aching to feel him inside; and he, too, could wait no longer. 

He grabbed your hips and lifted you, despite his haste still careful not to hurt your back on the rough bark, and you wrapped your legs around his waist.  
And with one, fluid motion, he pushed himself all the way inside of you.  
You cried out against his shoulder, your eyes falling shut as his ragged breaths rolled down your neck and his girth stretched you, his tip pressing deep and hard against your cervix. He gave short, powerful thrusts, not pulling out very far before slamming back in, and each one forced a cry from your lungs as electricity shot up your spine and into your brain. 

He filled you with his seed and kept going, kept pushing deep inside of you with such force you thought you may faint, until he came and filled you for a second time, his cock pressing hard against that sweet, sensitive spot and taking you with him. Yet even then he wasn't done and did not cease fucking you against that tree, slamming against that spot again and again and again, your second climax crashing over you and making your walls clench so hard that the raven-haired prince nearly shouted a curse and lost himself for a third time.

His legs lost the strength to keep the two of you upright. He slowly sank through them, slowly took you into his arms as he slumped onto the ground, twisting around so that he could rest his back against the tree while he held you in his lap. You, in turn, rested against his chest, your eyes closed in bliss as your core softly throbbed.

Your heartbeat began to calm down again, your breathing returned to normal, and, as the haze befan to fade and thinking was possible once more, a soft laugh escaped your lips. 

“Are you okay?” 

Loki hummed a nondescript answer, still too caught up in the aftermath to give an eloquent reply. “Why do you ask?” 

“Apart from the fact you just pushed me against a tree and fucked me out of nowhere?” 

He huffed out a breathy laugh. “Are you complaining?” 

“Oh not at all.” Your smile turned into a grin but your eyes stayed closed, all tension and stress having left your body, and a satisfied sigh escaped your lips. “Not even slightly.” 

“Good, because with those infuriating fools around I can promise you it will happen again.” 

Ah, so they irritated him as much as they irritated you. You shifted a bit in his arms and glanced up at him. “What was that necklace he had? Was that what has caused our exhaustion?” 

He leaned the back of his head against the trunk and closed his eyes, as if the recent memory was enough to spark up his frustration again. “It was an amulet enchanted to drain the magic from any users close to the wearer. It is – it _was_ a direct connection to Yggdrasil; which is where our magical energy comes from and returns to. It siphons it directly to the World Tree and uses a fraction to uphold the connection.” He sighed. “I was unaware that there were still real, working amulets on the market. Most merchants exploit the Yllgardian Paranoia and sell them fakes for remarkably high prices, and as only magic users themselves are able to tell the difference the buyers have no way of verifying their reliability.” 

Your brows knitted together in a frown. “Why are they so afraid of it? I know that not everyone uses their magic for healing or harmless tricks like us, but surely there must be enough good people amongst them?” 

He chuckled, yet it sounded empty. “The Yllgardians are a proud and paranoid people, they have been for centuries. Their kings and queens are hungry for power and anything or anyone that appears to have more than them is a threat; hence their fear of those with the gift of magic. There are many recordings of witch hunts – one of the reasons there are so few bloodlines with magic left, and even fewer where the potential is significant.” His voice softened, a tone weaving through it that could only be described as melancholic, wistful. “They spared none, murdered men, women, children, and newborn babes – even if they had not yet shown any signs of possessing the Gift. Whole families were slaughtered.”

He let the air escape his lungs again. “I initially thought that the tenuous meetings, short nights, and frequent teleporting had drained me thoroughly; yet I should have known that it couldn't be just that. Normally I should have been able to easily kill the bildshnipe, should have been able to protect everyone and teleport us to safety. If my magic had been at its full potential those foreign idiots would have quivered in terror and obeyed every command. We wouldn't have needed them. All of this could have been prevented if only I had noticed sooner, if my mind hadn't been so clouded with rage.” 

“You couldn't have known.” You traced the intricate designs on his leather chest piece, wishing he had taken it off so you could have felt his heartbeat beneath the palm of your hand. “I do not think any less of you, and neither should you, my Loki.” 

He pressed his lips to your forehead. “A healer of tormented minds.” 

“Or perhaps merely a healer of tormented princes.” Your smile widened then he chuckled darkly. 

“If you heal any other tormented princes you may just fall prey to my horrible jealousy, my love.” 

“If you express your 'horrible jealousy' in the same way you handle your frustration, I don't think I would mind.” This was good; well-natured and teasing banter, keeping your minds away from the darkness that would take over in silence. 

“Careful what you wish for, my lady.” 

“Oh I think I know exactly what I wish for.” You kissed him, loving how his low growl resonated through his body and into yours. “Yet for now I think it may be best if we get cleaned up and make ready to leave with the others.”

“Always so soon to spoil the fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	60. LX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading schedule change: once every week, on Saturdays. I hope to bring it down to 4 days again in the future!

The woods slipped past as the party continued its journey, the pace quick. Perhaps Thor wanted to reach the bigger cities as soon as possible as well, to get rid of the insubordinate pricks that once more rode on the outskirts of the formation. Good, let them be the first line of defense, let them be the first to face danger should it come.  
You pushed the thought away. Hate had been growing inside your heart and you didn't like the weight of it, didn't like the bitter taste it brought to your mouth. Yet no matter how often or how thoroughly you searched, how closely you observed or how intensely you listened, never were your attempts to find a speck of goodness within those men successful. How could the people from two, almost neighbouring kingdoms be so different? Or was it simply the way the armies were organised and requited for? Had king Brynjar sent these men just so he could get rid of them? No, Kari wouldn't have allowed that – if she had had any say in the matter, of course. 

Brant and Dagny were Yllgardians as well, and they were reasonable people; kind, even. Warm, and loving, too. Kari, who one would expect to be hungry for power according to Loki's tales, was sweet and energetic; Audhild had been shy and considerate, and the other servants – Selby and Vern, if you remembered correctly – had been just as kindhearted. Then how come none of these soldiers showed any signs of positive character traits?  
You closed your eyes and pressed your lips together. You needed to be distracted from your own feelings and thoughts far more often than you liked to admit. So you tried to glance over your shoulder, at the prince sitting behind you, and simply posed one of the many other questions that was still circling your mind. 

“So... How long will it take our magic to restore?” 

And, as he was not only your lover but also your teacher on the subject of magic, he apparently couldn't pass up on the opportunity to educate you. 

“When magical energy is taken it exhausts the body and mind at a rate far faster than bodily energy, and restores far slower – which is why I taught you to predominantly use the latter. Where bodily energy can be restored by a thorough night's rest, magic cannot.” He was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words, then continued. “It is easier to look at it the form of a well, or an aquifer. Using and training your magic regularly increases the size and depth of that well or aquifer, and so the user will gradually be able to use more and stronger magic throughout their lives. Yet taking a bucket of water takes less time than for the rain to fill up that same quantity. When, for example, I teleport us to Asgard, many 'buckets' of energy will be taken from my well. Luckily it is quite deep and normally I would not be bothered by it, unless my bodily energy is low as well, and it should be restored within days; likely without my notice. But this,” he sighed, sounding just as magically exhausted as you felt, “This will take weeks.” 

“Weeks?!” Weeks without your fully restored magic? There was no way that was going to go well, someone was definitely going to get badly hurt and they were going to need you, and without your full power – would you be able to save them? Or were you just being paranoid, and were you going to be fine? Yet if you looked at the number of times you had had to heal someone during this whole traveling ordeal, the chances didn't look too good.

“The amulet has drained our magic almost to full depletion, and has prevented it from returning. You have been affected for longer since you travelled more days in close distance to the pendant, yet as your well is smaller than mine it should take you less time to be back to your true potential. I think it will take your magic two to three weeks to be completely restored. Of course you can still use it; yet the more you use, the longer it will take you to regain it.”

You were the one to sigh now, more out of disbelief and disappointment than out of weariness. Two to three weeks, unable to use the full extent of the magic you should possess. You would only be able to use fractions at a time if you ever wanted it to restore. 

“How about you, then? Your well of magical energy is deeper, you used quite a lot the last few days, and the necklace had been draining you, too. If it already takes me two to three weeks to be at full power again, how long will it take you?” 

“A month, perhaps longer.” 

It was easy to hear the frustration in his voice. Did he feel just as weak and useless as you did? Yet, in contrast to you, he was most likely skilled in combat even without his magic. Sure, you could defend yourself quite well, perhaps even fight back to two or three full-grown men, but there was no way you could keep yourself standing should you be surrounded, let alone protect those you cared for – not without your magical abilities. And Dagny still had your dagger. 

“Can't we absorb magical energy? I absorbed the energy of a forest fire, so surely there must be a way to convert it or something?” 

“I'm afraid not, my love. You absorbed bodily energy by using your magical energy, leaving you only emptier after you ran out. No object in the nine realms possesses the kind of magical energy that could be taken. Often objects have spells or energy bound to them in a way that cannot be broken or undone; like the bow of that soldier.” 

“Iver?” 

Without being able to see him you knew he nodded. “It is impossible to take the magical energy used to create the spells back from the object.” 

“How about someone, then? Could you absorb someone else's magic?” 

He chuckled. “I am surprised you would even consider that option. But yes, it may be possible if their shield is down and their energy lay bare to the outside world. Perhaps you could grab on should they reach out with their magic. But that is considered very, very mean.” He snickered again and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I think it may even be illegal; if those laws are still abided by.”

Every answer he gave only called for more answers. There were laws regarding magic? What were they? Who had written them? Was there a book you could read on the subject? But then again, Loki may very well be aware of the effect his words had – he was Silvertongue, after all. With his smooth, honeyed voice to speak the exact syllables he needed in each and every situation, eliciting the reaction he wished for. Intelligent, eloquent prince Loki. 

“Then educate me, my tutor. What are the laws?” 

He shifted a bit in his seat as if to make himself more comfortable before starting his lesson, and you couldn't keep the grin from tugging on your lips. 

“It should be obvious that those who possess the Gift must still abide the common laws like everyone else, but since our magic allows for some rather complicated situations, new rules were added centuries ago. If I were to tell you about all of them it would take me at least a week, perhaps longer; but if it interests you then I could provide you with the two volumes in which they were recorded?” 

You nodded. “I'd like that.” Though you already dreaded the hours you were going to spend trying to work your way through those endless pages of dry matter. “Tell me about the most interesting ones.” 

“Very well.” 

And so he began to tell you about all kinds of scenarios that had occurred and had prompted another law to be written. He told you about one of the most powerful wielders of magic in the history of Asgard, who stole the magical energy of other Gifted people to the point that they could no longer uphold their tether to the World Tree, and so took away their ability to ever use magic again. She was another reason that there were so few of you left. Many had gone on a quest to find a cure, a way to reconnect to Yggdrasil; but as their searches never bore fruit, they all gave up and lived their lives as common people.  
The thought alone sent shivers down your spine. Magic was a part of you, a part of everyone who possessed it, and taking it away was like taking a piece of their being, a piece of who they were. They would never be the same again – perhaps never be themselves again, and you could imagine the everlasting hole they must have felt within their souls. How their quest must have driven some to insanity, how giving up must have done the same for others. 

“How did they defeat her?” 

“They didn't.” 

You frowned, but he continued before you could form another question. 

“It is unknown how she found her end. Some sources say she absorbed more than she could take and was consumed by the pure energy; others say that Yggdrasil severed its tether to her in an attempt to restore balance and that her countless enemies took care of the rest. One legend speaks of another woman that fell in love with her but saw the evil in her heart, and tried to purge it – only to kill her in the process. Another said she died in childbirth. In that particular legend the twin children survived, but they were deformed, not resembling any creature that had ever been seen before. The first of the dragons.” 

Your eyes went wide and your hands tightened around the reins. “Is that how dragons came to be?”

“It is one of the possibilities.” 

You breathed in through your nose, closing your eyes, and silently exhaled through your mouth before opening them again. “Please tell me more.” 

He was silent for a moment, as if considering something; then complied. “The twin dragons, a female and a male, were intelligent creatures – powerful, birthed from pure magic itself. They realised they would be hunted and killed in this form and so took on that of beautiful Asgardians, hiding amongst the crowds even though they saw beauty in their existence; but they were vain, in a way, too. They wanted more like them, others like them, an entire kingdom for the dragons.” He was silent again and you could feel his eyes on you, studying you, monitoring your movements. “So they set out to seduce villagers and townspeople, princes and princesses, kings and queens that ruled over the many kingdoms that still existed; and they began to breed. They took their offspring and raised them in seclusion, created a place for them to live, built a city that reached into the clouds with their magic alone; and watched over it until their lives came to an end. The new generation of dragons both procreated among themselves and with the Asgardians, taking on their Asgardian form whenever they left their kingdom to travel elsewhere. Not all dragons followed the laws they had set for themselves, however. Some left the hidden city still in dragon form, tormented the neighbouring kingdoms, tried to seize power over the common people or hunted them for food or breeding. Other dragons took on different creatures as partners – some say this is how the bildshnipe was created.” 

It seemed logic: the bildshnipe had been massive and its hide had been rough, as if made of innumerable tiny scales. But the antlers, the tailless rear, and the saber-like teeth – had those evolved from the other creature in the romantic union? 

“Here the legend splits into two others. One says that the race of dragons lived peacefully in their city for centuries, secretly mingling with Asgardians, but they were hunted. Their scales, tougher than metal, could be made into armour, their bones carved into weapons and tools, and it was believed their blood and flesh contained some of their magical energy and could therefore be used in potions and medicine. For every part there was a use.” 

You shivered, the image of the dragon laying dead inside the cave appearing behind your eyes. But it had not been taken apart, had not been stripped of its scales or flesh; nothing had been taken – it had simply been murdered. 

“Harpoons, previously used for hunting whales and fish, proved very effective; as did poison. The demand rose to such heights that hunters banded together into guilds and specialised into tracking and killing dragons. They lured them out of cities when they found them in Asgardian form, provoked them to take on their original one, and then struck.” You shivered again, and you knew he knew it wasn't because of the nip in the air. “The dragons declared war yet were greatly outnumbered, and no matter their intelligence, strength, and magical power, their small disadvantages on the battle field added up; and, together with their inexperience in combat, meant the end for the race of dragons.” 

“And the other legend?” 

“In that one their hidden city was discovered, and the kingdoms sent their armies in secret – surprising the dragons and bringing their demise. Some believe a handful were able to escape and were either tracked down or lived their lives in seclusion; others believe none escaped the city – but the few living amongst the Asgardians survived.” 

You took in another breath, and released it with as much control as you could muster. “Could there still be dragons alive then, to this day?” 

“It is not very likely, but yes, it is possible. Does that frighten you, my love?” He chuckled and placed a kiss on the crown of your head again, before letting one hand slip from the reins and wrap around your waist to keep you against his chest. “Worry not, I will protect you.” 

You rested against him and closed your eyes, humming contently, yet you couldn't bring yourself to smile. If there were other dragons out there, then were there still dragon-specialised hunters as well? Had one of them killed the Blacktree dragon, or had it been the raiders? 

You had found yet another thing to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly world-building, diving a bit deeper into the magic system and the lore of this story. I hoped you liked it! If you have any questions you can leave them here, or you can send them in on the blog: https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/ Sometimes it's easier to explain with pictures, and if you send in an ask on Tumblr it gives me the opportunity to answer with a drawing! You don't need an account to send one in ;3
> 
> I hope everyone has been doing okay? I have no doubt all of you are busy as heck, too, haha  
> So yeah, I haven't been able to catch up with my writing, so for now I will upload once every week uwu
> 
> Hit me up on my blogs!  
> http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/  
> http://foruneyti.tumblr.com/


	61. LXI

Dragons truly existed. Hours of riding had passed and you still could not wrap your head around it, even though you had seen one first-hand. It was not just magical shape shifting, not just some elaborate trick like you had hoped ever since that day – no, they were real. And there may be more of them. A part of you wanted to search for them, to find them, to ask them all the questions the Blacktree dragon had left you with. But what if they were not of the welcoming kind? And who were you to search for those who did not even want to be found? Besides, if all dragons possessed magic, then they would no doubt be hidden excruciatingly well; yet as you weren't sure of this ( and hoped it was false) you asked Loki. 

He thought for a moment, as if recalling it from deep inside his brain. Where had he heard or read about all of this, anyway? 

“I am not sure. The dragon bloodline has been diluted thoroughly in the centuries after their city's downfall, as those who went into hiding most likely procreated with common Asgardians. I do not know if the magic ceases to be passed on after the dragon to Asgardian gene ratio has shifted beyond a certain point, or whether it prevails no matter how far the ancestry lies. It is possible that all descendants of the dragon race still possess magic – though perhaps not as strong as Asgardians born with the Gift. They may also have lost that ability many generations ago.” 

You threw that question right on top of the evergrowing pile. The need to find a descendant of the dragons – or someone with proper answers at least – was burning inside your heart and every piece of information only added fuel to the flames. So, when Loki continued, it only got worse. 

“There is a chance that some of them mated with Gifted Asgardians or other descendants, of course, which may have kept the magical heritage intact.” 

'Mated', 'procreated', as if they were nothing but beasts. Is that how he thought of them? As an inferior race, that had mingled with Asgardians and had even become less worthy?   
You hadn't told him about the dragon you had found in the cave, or what it had revealed to you. Now you hesitated even more. Yet if you couldn't confide in your lover, then you would have to bear the burden alone – and the secret felt like poison waiting to slowly destroy everything you cared about. What if he found out on his own? Would he hate you for keeping it secret? Would he be repelled? Would he leave you? 

“My love, is everything all right?” He wrapped his arm a bit tighter around your waist and held you a bit firmer against his armour-clad yet still comfortable chest. 

Should you tell him? Should you risk it? Perhaps you could slowly build up to it, or find out what his thoughts were without directly saying anything. 

“It's just that you talk about the dragons and their descendants like they are lesser beings. You said they were intelligent, right? And they could take the form of Asgardians, live like them in their cities and villages? Then surely their race would be no less worthy than... than our race, just like the Frost Giants are no lesser a race.” 

Even in his silence you could make out his surprise, and he didn't try to keep it out of his voice, either. “It is difficult to say where the line should be drawn. I am sure you are aware that my opinion of Frost Giants is not very high; they are a violent and merciless race, they hunger for war and make no distinction between adults and children when slaughtering the inhabitants of villages they conquered. Reasoning with them is almost impossible-” 

“But then how about you? You are far from violent and merciless, and not once have I heard you mention a lust for war. Reasoning with you is surprisingly easy, too. Aren't you generalising entire races on their misdeeds? I am sure there are many more Frost Giants like you, just like- Well, just like there must have been kind and nonviolent dragons.” You almost slipped up there.

Luckily Loki did not seem to notice. “There are no other Frost Giants like me, no pacifist ones at least. I suspect my biological mother to be the cause of my deviant personality.” 

You glanced over your shoulder. “Was she not a Frost Giant, too?” 

“I am rather convinced that she was not.” He sounded both relieved and melancholic, his green-blue eyes distant. “My switching between forms is not a glamour or any type of shape shifting magic; both forms are my own. The only explanation would be for my mother to be Asgardian, or at least possess enough Asgardian genes to look like one.” 

Your eyes grew a bit wider. That is why his father, the king of Jotunheim, had left him to die: a bastard child, born of an unlawful union between races. A Frost Giant and an Asgardian. 

Your position made it impossible to obey the need to kiss him; so you tried to show him affection in any other way: you leaned back against him, lay your hand on his and pulled it up towards your lips, kissing his palm softly before returning it to its place on your stomach. He had never known his biological mother, didn't even know her name, and deep empathy settled heavily within your heart. Yes, you had once longed to find out who had brought you into this world, and some part of you still did; even more so now – but you had two loving parents who were so good to you that you had never wished for others. You were quite certain your biological mother had not wanted you dead, either, as she could have murdered you easily or could have left you behind in the woods.

Loki hadn't had that luxury. 

Had he met Laufey? Had he spoken to his father and asked for the name of his mother? Wait – Laufey did not even know Loki was his, did he? He probably assumed the child had starved to death, or had been murdered during the war; he couldn't have known that Odin had taken him to Asgard. 

“Couldn't you go to Jotunheim disguised like someone else, use some kind of spell on Laufey or something, to find out her name?” 

He slowly released the air from his lungs and nuzzled the top of your head, taking in your scent as he took in a deep breath. 

“I killed him.” 

Your heart missed a beat. 

“W-what?” 

But he just held you tight, as if he was afraid you would get off and walk away, as if you would change your mind and think him a monster. You could feel his heart pick up its pace ever so slightly. 

“Many years ago, when I was still...” He struggled to find the right words, struggled to explain himself. “He wanted to start a second war, to kill Odin and to invade Asgard, and I used him in my plans- I...” He sighed. “He deserved to die. He craved nothing but death and destruction, power and worship, so I put an end to his life.”

The way he spoke about Frost Giants, the way antipathy laced his words; that wasn't only his self-loathing, was it? No, it was his hate of his biological father, of seeing the murder in his eyes and knowing he carried his genes - that he was part of Loki, whether either of them wanted it or not.   
But he killed his own father. No matter how much he hated him, there was no way it did him nothing, right? You didn't know. Should you ask? 

“Do you...” You kept your voice soft, your words gentle. “Do you regret your decision?” 

“No.” A direct answer, no hesitation. “I only regret not demanding my mother's name. It is something I will never know, and not knowing something so banal is very, very frustrating.” 

You guessed it ran deeper than mere irritation, but you didn't voice your suspicions.

“I have taken many lives during my own.” It was a statement, but you knew he wanted a response. Did it frighten you? Did you love him less because of it? “Some I considered collateral damage – innocent people. ” 

“Well... It's in the past, right? So-” 

“I will kill again.” 

You tensed a bit, but he only held you tighter. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If anyone tries to harm you, my love; if anyone dares to point a sword in your direction, I will not sit by and idly watch. I will do anything to keep you safe.” 

Love fluttered and glowed within your heart, but there was uneasiness, too. “Don't do anything foolish, okay? Don't ever get yourself hurt just to save me. Haven't I yet proven to be capable of handling things myself?” 

There was pain in his voice when he responded. “Of course, and I do not doubt your capability, but please understand that I am unable to simply do nothing. You cannot expect me to stay calm when you are in danger – do you know how worried I was when you rode off on that beast? Do you know how much it hurt to hear of Ylva's attempts to kill you, to know that you could have died and that I would have been unable to save you? Every time I saw her during the meetings I felt my daggers burn against my hip, felt my magic coil like a snake – I would have killed her if it hadn't been for your words.” The muscles of his arm had tensed so tight that his semi-embrace was almost uncomfortable. “You keep saving the day, you keep acting like a hero from those stories you read to me at the library. I do not want it to become your downfall. You do not need to do everything alone – let me help you, let me protect you, my love.” He was almost pleading now, and your vision became blurred as tears formed in your waterline. “If I lost you, I do not think I could bear to live on.” 

Your throat clenched tight, but you slapped his thigh and tried to force the words out, anyway. “Never say that ever again. If I should die before my time then I want you to keep on living. Promise me, Loki. Promise me you will not follow me into death.” 

“I can't, my love, I-” 

“I _need_ you to promise it, Loki. I don't want to live in constant fear of death, knowing I would indirectly take your life as well. I can't do that, I can't live like that, please-” 

“You have my word;” he buried his face in your hair, “please don't cry my sweetest, I merely want to see you alive and happy. I want to keep you safe, keep you by my side.” 

You knew; you wanted the same for him. 

He slowly loosened his grip on you. “When we get to the palace in Asgard we will be safe, no one could harm us there. I will have the royal blacksmith forge you the best sword there ever was, I will have the leatherworker provide you with the toughest fighting leathers in existence. You could train with me in the art of combat.” 

You smiled despite the stinging salt still making the woods ahead unclear. His words, the warmth of the future, it calmed the pain in your heart. Training with him, sleeping in his arms in the safety of his chambers, no jealous princesses or murderous raiders or strange men with possibly terrifying intentions, no dragons or dragon hunters and no ignorant Yllgardians to get everyone in trouble. Just you and him - after the possibly awkward meeting with his parents, of course.   
You just needed to keep your goals clear and all would be fine. You would go home, say goodbye to your parents, and travel to Asgard for however many weeks there were still to go. 

You rubbed your hand over your eyes, trying to get rid of the moisture. “How long is it from Blacktree to Asgard?” 

“Not as long as our journey to Yllgard has been; I think we will be able to reach the palace within a week from then.” 

A relieved sigh escaped past your lips. Only a week. You hoped it wasn't enough time for trouble to find you again. Within nine days you would reach Blacktree, within two weeks your magic would be restored, your worries would be eased, and within about four weeks you would be able to finally explore the palace of Asgard and the beautiful gardens you had spotted from Loki's balcony. You had to hold on to that, had to forget about your possible illness, had to forget about the weird dream and the even weirder stranger. You had to believe that everything would be all right. Everything would be all right. 

Everything would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But what is the truth?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! If you have any questions you can send them to the blog! Foruneyti.tumblr.com   
> See you next Saturday!


	62. LXII

Three days of riding passed. In the evening you continued your training with Dagny, the dagger your mother had given you for your fourth nameday still in her possession, and at night you slept in your lovers embrace; waking every few hours as the nightmares returned. It was getting less frequent, less intense, too, but you had no doubt that your eyes were still red-rimmed and weary. 

Not one conversation had mentioned dragons since then. You wanted to know more, to know everything, because how couldn't you? How could you not want to find out everything about them after you had seen one, spoken to one in your youth? After it had changed your life so thoroughly?  
But Loki would get suspicious, perhaps tease you, or try to draw it out of you with those perfectly chosen words and that honeyed voice of him – not out of malicious intent, but out of curiosity. He was no less curious than you were and seemed set on finding out every little thing about you, always trying to solve the riddles around him - and you did want to be solved; you wanted to tell him everything, from start to finish, from the moment the raiders attacked to the moment you had stepped inside the cave, and everything that had happened after that. If only you hadn't been so afraid to lose his respect, his love. 

So you grew quiet. You asked no questions, only participated in small talk or the occasional conversation your lover started. You listened to him as he told you about the different realms, their inhabitants and main races, tried to soak it all up as would be expected of you, as _you_ would expect of you; but it didn't interest you as much anymore. Not as much as it should. 

Sometimes... Sometimes you wished you had never met that dragon at all. 

How would your life have been? How many questions wouldn't have needed an answer? But perhaps it would have found a way into your life one way or another. Yggdrasil was strange and unpredictable that way. 

You should be glad – and you were, of course – as it had allowed you to meet Loki and all the lovely things that had come after. But if it would destroy it all in the end, then... Wouldn't it have been better not to know at all?  
You softly shook your head at your own thoughts. You had been over this; in different forms, sure, but still. You had had this conversation with yourself already, and you knew that each time you would come to the same conclusion: the memories, the temporary happiness, it was worth it. Even if it was all nullified in the end. 

You wanted to groan out in frustration. Couldn't you just stop over-thinking for once? You were slowly spiraling down into a madness of your own making again – you had hoped you had outgrown this trait. By the Gods, you were insufferable. 

“Are you... are you okay?” 

You looked over to Dagny, seeing the worry in her eyes – in Loki's eyes, too, as he glanced at you when his conversation with Thor a bit further off halted for a heartbeat. 

You blinked; once, twice. “What?” 

You tried to remember what you had been doing, or when you had gotten off the prince's horse. All the tents had already been set up – had you helped? Had you been so lost in your own mind that you had noticed none of it? 

She let out a relieved sigh. “At least you're responding again. You're not coming down with anything, are you? Surely healers don't get sick?” 

You smiled, though the confusion and uneasiness still sat heavy in your stomach like a stone, pushing against your insides and weighing you down. “I am no different than you are,” a lie, in more ways than one; “though I suppose I am immune to more ailments to most. But no, no I think I'm fine, but thank you for worrying.” Your smile turned genuine for a moment, yet you knew it didn't reach your eyes. “I've just been... thinking a lot.” 

“About the wrong things it seems,” Trygve, who had overheard the two of you, joined Dagny's side and studied your face with a worried expression of his own. “Are you not happy to be returning home?” 

“Oh I am! I definitely am! It's one of the things I look forward to the most-” 

“Is it the nightmares, then?” 

Ah, so they knew. Trygve noticed the look in your eyes and offered a soft smile, one that showed a kindhearted pity more than anything else. 

“I slept in the tent next to yours.” 

You had not screamed, you knew that much, but the terrified whimpers and throat-clenching wails that left your lungs when you cried must have been loud enough for the surrounding tents to pick up on. Sadly, nightmares were not something you could cure. 

But you could use them to your advantage.

You nodded. “Yeah, it's... It's the nightmares. It's getting better, but I can't wait for them to be fully gone.” 

They both nodded as well, solemnly, understanding, before Trygve lay a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If you ever need someone to talk to, please know that I will be there for you – we all will.” 

You wanted to cry, but instead you forced a smile on your face. “I know. Thank you.” 

 

Now that you were aware of the way reality seemed to slip from your grasp you pushed all thoughts and worries aside and tried to focus on the here and now. You made conversation with the soldiers during dinner, helped with the gathering of moss and leaves, and tried not to space out while staring at the fire after all tasks had been completed - but by the Gods, was it easier said than done. All the memories haunted you, tortured you, tried to distort your vision of the future. 

If you kept it all secret, if no one was to know about it, then what could go wrong? You could just keep it hidden for the rest of your life and no one would need to fear you or abandon you, or lose their trust. But then again, what if you needed it? What if a situation so extreme that no other options were left would arise? You couldn't do nothing in that case – especially not out of your own selfishness. 

You stood from your place beside the flames, not missing how everyone's eyes shot to you. You smiled in return. “I'm just going to go for a quick stroll through the woods.”

Jari shot up. “Are you sure miss? We are in raider territory, and you seem... It's not safe to wander around at night. Let one of us accompany you.” 

“I will go.” Brant stood as well, his expression calmer. “If you'll allow me?” 

You threw a quick glance around, trying to spot the raven-haired prince, but he was nowhere to be seen. Not being able to use his magic made him a bit moody, and after multiple glares from everyone around he had most likely decided to retreat to the tent the two of you shared – which may be for the best. The men had only just started to accept him, the kindness in their eyes only a recent thing, and their warmth towards Loki was still fragile.  
Still, you couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted. The stroll had only been an excuse to gather courage, after all; and as soon as you'd had gathered enough the plan had been to tell Loki everything and to await his reaction; but for that to work out you needed him at your side. 

Yet Brant seemed rather eager to talk to you. 

And so you nodded, allowing him to come as you walked past your tent without daring to glance in its direction. 

 

For a while the two of you just strolled side by side, the only sounds those of the forest and the critters that came out at night. You knew he expected some kind of explanation, a kind of cause to your strange behaviour of the past few days, but what were you to say? 'Hey, did you know dragons are a thing? I found one many years ago and guess what it said to me!'  
You sighed. No, there was no way that would go well. 

Brant glanced at you from the corner of his eye, no less worried than before. 

“Are you sure you're feeling well? You have been rather absent lately, and you look like you could use a day or two to rest. We could stay longer at that village? We will reach it in about two or three days; I'm sure no one would object.” 

You shook your head. The longer it took you to get home the more time you would be left without distraction, to listen to the maddening thoughts inside the chaos that was your mind. 

“I want to get home as quickly as possible. We're so close; I can rest when we get there.” 

He seemed unconvinced yet he kept quiet and focused his attention to the woods again. There was a slight nip in the air, the gentle breeze inducing tiny bouts shivers whenever it caressed your skin, and you knew another storm was coming. The end of spring was in sight and summer had been heating up the lands for a while, after all. You hoped you would reach that village before the water would come pouring down.

You knew he knew you still hadn't answered his question; not really, anyway - but, maybe, just maybe, you could find out what he thought about it without truly mentioning it. You needed to pick your words carefully, dance around the truth as if getting too close would burn you. So you made your choices, gathered the courage, and spoke again. 

“Hey, Brant?”

“Hm?” 

“If... if there was something... something wrong with me, would you treat me differently?”

His brows knitted together in a thoughtful frown. “I would like to say 'no', but I have to admit that it depends on what it is. So you _are_ ill then? Can it be cured?” 

A huff of air passed your lips, too mirthless to resemble a laugh, too quick to be without meaning. A disease only curable by death. “No, nothing that will decrease my lifespan or anything,” if you were lucky. “Don't worry, I'm not ill.” 

You had to carefully rephrase your question. 

“I mean, if I was... different. Abnormal.” 

He frowned again, but this time in slight confusion. “Well, you do have magic, and you did sort of tame a bildshnipe; but no, I haven't been treating you differently for that and I wouldn't treat you differently for other 'abnormalities' either. Everyone has their differences.” He eyed you again, scanning from top to toe but with a kind and patient look in his eyes. “Do you feel comfortable telling me?” 

Did you? You didn't think you would lose him, not after this conversation; but then again, you didn't know how deep the fear lay. As you mused it over Brant spoke up again. 

“It's okay if you don't. I think your Dark Prince would like to hear it first, anyway; or he might get jealous.” 

You rolled your eyes at his grin, but to your surprise a smile of your own tugged on your lips. “My Dark Prince. It sounds strange when you say it out loud.” 

He laughed. “But in your head it sounds fine?” 

“Well – better!” 

You laughed with him, and your heart felt lighter. The soldier met your gaze and the warmth in his brown eyes was enough to keep the chill of the night at bay. 

“Make sure you tell him when you're ready. If he truly loves you he won't discard you or treat you any different; if he does, then he is not the man you deserve. And... even though I've had my doubts in the past,” he looked remorseful for a moment, an apologetic sheen to his eyes, “I think you will be fine.” 

His wink made your smile widen. “You're right.” 

“As always.” 

You shot him a look. 

“All right, not always. Most of the time, however-” he let out a soft 'ugh' when the back of your hand made contact with his arm, before filling the woods with laughter once more. 

But he was right. Loki trusted you, and your trust for him was no less; you knew he would listen to you. He would listen, and even if he couldn't accept it right away, then he would try. For you. For both of you. Just like you would do for him.  
The dizziness seemed to lift from your mind and even though anxiety stayed, you were determined as you and Brant turned back towards the camp. 

You were going to do this. 

You were going to tell Loki that you were a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! Many of you already saw it coming, so kudos to you! But there are still some cases that haven't been closed yet. What is with Healer's eyes? And who was the mysterious stranger? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I will try to keep this up but I've only got two more chapters in stock, so I gotta get back into the flow. I may have to switch between this one and In Her Loving Memory. 
> 
> Once more, I love reading your theories. Let me know what you think about this 'twist' and what you expect/hope will happen in the future!!


	63. LXIII

_”Come to me.”_

The dragon with its scales that had turned grey over years, decades, perhaps centuries, kept repeating its command even as you slowly, step by cautious step, moved towards the sea of red it lay within. You could feel its magic, weakened but still there. It didn't have much longer. 

“I am here,” you answered it – not inside your head but with a whisper. “I am here.” 

It fell silent for a moment, the long, wheezy inhales and raspy exhales the only sounds beside the chattering of birds coming from outside the cave. It would have been peaceful if it hadn't been for the fact that a creature so magnificent was dying at the hands of Asgardians. You felt hate bubble up within you, felt it mix with the deep sorrow that had made tears stream down your face. Why did such cruel people exist? People who fought and robbed and killed; who destroyed the lives of innocent people and stunning creatures?

A huff made your blurry vision focus on the dragon again, and the scales on its nose – maw? Snout? - caught your attention. They were tiny, no less beautiful, like the rough hide of a lizard or the delicate scales of a fish.  
Its eyelids twitched, as if it wanted to open them yet had no energy left to do so, or as if it had lost control over even its tiniest muscles.

_”You are not who I have been calling. Your mind is not trained, you are but a youngling.”_

You didn't know what to say, or whether to speak at all. The pool of blood was expanding slowly. 

_”Whose offspring are you?”_

You didn't know the names of your biological parents. You only knew you had been found in the woods and that your mother had been beside you, dead. 

“I don't know.”

A foreign kind of pity rippled through you, and somehow you knew it belonged to the dragon. 

_”You have been living in this form since you can remember, haven't you? Do you know you carry dragon blood, child?”_

“I am not a dragon.” You didn't even have scales or wings; if it opened its eyes it would see that. 

Another wave of pity, of sadness that didn't belong to you but was meant for you to feel. _”You are. If you were not, I would not have been able to speak to you like this. You have never turned to your true form, have you?”_ As you stayed silent once more, it continued. _”It will be difficult to start getting used to it so late in your development. Be careful, child; no one should know. Our species is not welcome. Find your form and train it, yet do so in secret. There are already so few of us left.”_

Air spilled through its nostrils, blowing strands of hair from your face. A sigh carrying the deep regret the creature felt. 

_”I should have found you sooner, should have helped you. Perhaps then I would not be welcoming death so soon.”_

But its words were no longer aimed at you, not truly, and its voice seemed to dim inside your head. 

“I-I can heal you!” A promise you knew you couldn't keep. Your magic had only just awakened and it was weak, fragile; you had barely been able to save the fisherman's daughter and she had been of your age, with the petite and energetic body of a child. There was no way you could save a full-grown person yet, let alone a dragon that was on the brink of death. 

It knew, and its gentle laughter rang softly through your mind. 

_”You are kind, but my time has come. You are from the village below, are you not? I have protected it for so long that I do not know how much time has passed; but now the responsibility is yours. Protect your people.”_

You couldn't protect a whole village, you hadn't even been able to protect your own parents during the raid and Medhea had gotten hurt, had almost _died_! You couldn't do this, you couldn't protect them. Now that there would be no Dragon of Blacktree it would be vulnerable and an easy target, and everyone would die and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it. The images burned into your retina – the flames, the blood – and the screams of the villagers, the bellowing of the raiders – it made you clench your small hands into fists and cause your shoulders to shock. You couldn't see that again, didn't want to, didn't want anyone to get hurt anymore. You wanted to save everyone, to protect everyone, and you wanted to fulfill the dying dragon's wish, but could you? You weren't what it thought you were. Could you keep training with Audun and keep training your magic? Could you protect everyone in your own way? Would it be enough?

But if it was right, and if you were a dragon, then you should take its advice, right? You should try to find your 'true form' or whatever, and you should start training it. The thought of being able to fly over the mountains, to scare away any bandits with a single roar... 

“B-but how do I find that form? How do I change?” 

 

“Dragon?”

But no answer came, and its breathing had stopped. 

Your eyes grew wide and more water spilled down your face. “No no no you can't die! Please, please just stay alive a bit longer!” There was so much you still needed to ask, so many things you didn't know! You couldn't just take over its role like that! You hadn't even had your sixth nameday yet! This- This was something for people who knew how to fight and how to do real magic and who- who- well, were adults! It couldn't die yet, it couldn't leave you alone like that.

With panic washing over you no heed was taken as you ran through the blood and began to search its massive body for the injuries, hands frantically gliding over the cold grey. Where? Where?! 

There! 

A long slash, deep, still bleeding; and upon inspection the stench of poison reached your nose. 

“No, no please don't die, okay? It's not your time at all!” But no matter how you tried to push the flesh on both sides of the wound together the dark blood kept flowing steadily, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

 

You had cried for what seemed like hours, had pressed yourself against the cooling body, had prayed for it to come back and live. Childish, yet only to be expected from a child.  
After realising your parents must be freaking out you had headed back, had tried to wash the blood from your clothes in the stream – a futile mission – and had descended back into the valley and to the village. 

Illasias and Medhea had had a second heart attack that day when they saw you clothed in red. 

But after an explanation that it wasn't your blood, a fabricated story of how you found a man and tried to save him but couldn't, and some scolding that mainly came from a source of deep worry, they had simply cast their questions aside and had left the incident to fade into history.

The dragon's words still occupied your mind, of course, and it hadn't taken you long to find an excuse to go deep into the mountains on your own: after the harsh winter food was scarce, and the villagers needed to forage further and further away from the village with every day that passed. You would come up with a new excuse when spring allowed for things to grow on the fields again. 

And so, day after freezing day, you travelled to and fro an open field in a part of the woods where no one ever came. But no matter what you did, whether you meditated, slept, thought endlessly about it, or tensed all your muscles at once; it didn't work. With every day that came you began to doubt what it had said, and after two weeks you gave up on believing in it for even the slightest bit. You didn't give up on going to the field, though. Something inside you compelled to keep trying, to search for other ways.

Spring arrived, took away the bone-rattling cold, and made the trip a whole lot easier. Even if you no longer held trust in the verdict about your bloodline the hours spent in seclusion were peaceful; laying on the grass and staring at the passing clouds above, listening to the birdsong around – even now you wondered how a six-year old had had the patience for it all. But you had kept going, had kept travelling there. 

Until one day the urge to fly came back as you stared up at the heavens, and an idea came to mind: 

What if you could do it with your magic?  
What if you could form a body like a dragon and pretend to be one, so that no one would notice the absence of the real Dragon of Blacktree?

You had hurried up the mountain faster than any time before, a hopeful smile on your face. If this worked, if you could make a body like that, then you could fly – you could actually fly! Your heart leaped at the thought and you almost stumbled over your own two feet when the trees parted to make way for the field that lay in some kind of miniature valley, an unused passageway through the mountains and to what lay beyond. 

You went to stand in the middle, stretched a bit, focused on the magic swirling beneath your skin and inside every fibre of your being, and fed that longing to soar through the sky like it was a wildfire within your heart. Focus, focus. Tap into that magic that felt so deeply rooted inside you. The clouds seem to call and beckon, cheering whispers carried on the breeze. 

You only vaguely remembered what happened after that. 

Had you blacked out? Had you felt the transformation? You didn't know. The only things that stood clear inside your mind were how you had been both so comfortable and far from it, how it had hurt while at the same time it had been painless; and the disappointment when you realised you wouldn't be able to fly. 

The wings, membrane black like the night between long, clawed fingers, hung half-out like they had been damaged, slumping to the forest floor under the dead weight. The muscles felt foreign, weak. Was this the best thing your magic could do? Had you somehow built the body incorrectly? You hadn't had a good look at the dragon, and you hadn't seen it move or fly, so maybe it was as good as one might expect.  
You tried folding them against your flanks, sharp teeth clenching when the arms began to tremble. Rusty; that was the right word. Rusty even though it was all flesh. Yet, in the end, the two bat-like wings rested comfortably against your sides, and you could focus on other things; such as the length of your neck. So strange, so agile, you could even twist it so far that you could look right down your back! Eyes a tiny bit more to the side of the face, claws like daggers, bones hollow and light, and a tail! A _tail_! It was even stranger than the wings - those just felt like a pair of extra arms and were easier to imagine, but you had never been able to imagine what it would be like having a _tail_ \- yet, just like them, it felt rather stiff and weak. 

Perhaps your magic just needed training in forming and sustaining this body. You would just have to find the right way to build the muscles (not that you had any clue of how you had done it in the first place) and then make them bigger and stronger.

 

You had been so convinced it had been your magic; so convinced that you couldn't be a dragon. The possibility had left your mind almost completely, and if Loki hadn't come along you would still be believing the same thing – but now, when you looked back, you thought yourself an idiot for not seeing it sooner. It was obvious you had been training a body like any other; the muscles had been weak from disuse as you had never stretched them even once and the training of your magic had had less impact than the physical training in dragon form. Yet it had gone unused for so long that no matter how many years you spent trying to rebuild your new body and its abilities, you knew you would never be able to fully recover. 

The training was far from fruitless, however. Your four legs grew strong beneath your light and lithe body, your tail grew more powerful and easier to control, and though one wing would never completely fold against your flank, it did not hinder you in any kind of activity. 

Every day you had kept dreaming about finally ascending into the air and joining the birds, to feel the wind beneath the wings that were now reality; but it had taken two years of getting used to the muscles alone before you had even been able to start practicing. And oh, had it been frustrating. The jumping off of rocks or edges but not being able to spread your wings fast enough and crashing head-first into the ground, straining your neck or even twisting it so far that you had no other option but to lie on the grass and wait for the pain to fade; not opening both wings at the same time and swerving to the side, ending up much the same way; or finally managing to spread both wings the right way but being so caught up in keeping them stable that you soared straight into a tree. 

Years and years of more training passed, every time getting a bit better, a bit more stable, learning to beat your wings and to go higher and higher, to move in the air and to land properly (with many failures there, too, of course). It was a good thing your magic specialised in healing.

But when you could finally fly, when you were finally able to ascend towards the stars and see the lights of the village far below, it had been unlike anything else. Ecstasy, bliss, intense joy – all of it, all at once. 

Your life in the village continued, however. You had gotten more and more responsibilities regarding the shop and the time to practice became less and less, until, in the end, you had been barely able to fly at all. You almost hated it. Hated how all these things and all these people kept you bound to the soil. It was almost selfish how you had come to care less and less about protecting them.

Yet all that was needed for you to move your gaze back down was an epidemic that took many lives; so many, many lives. You hadn't been able to save them, even now that you could turn yourself into a dragon; and you realised that the biggest threats could not be fought with violence, but with medicine. Your meaning in life was on the ground, with the people you cared about – not in the sky between the fleeting clouds. You turned back to your studies with every grain of focus you could muster. 

You hadn't trained much after that. 

 

 

 

“Loki?” 

With the back of your hand you pushed the flap to the side and entered the tent. It took your eyes a second to adjust to the dark, but when you could finally distinguish his silhouette on the thin layer of moss a fond smile spread on your lips, and as silently as you could you moved to lay down beside him.

You would tell him tomorrow. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_“Come to me.”_

_“Who are you?”_

_“I am waiting for you.”_

_“I told you I'm not coming, I'm going home.”_

_“Your home is gone._ Come _.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kool-aid68 on Tumblr made amazing fanart, go check it out!  
> [Fanart: Are you wooing prince Loki?](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/166563862353/look-at-this-gorgeous-f%C7%ABruneyti-fanart-made-by)
> 
> And of course my Tumblr!  
> [Fǫruneyti blog](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)


	64. LXIV

You shot up, your eyes wide and your heart beating so fast you felt nauseous.

Blacktree. You needed to get to Blacktree. 

“What is wrong?” Loki raised himself up on his elbow as he rubbed the sleep from his eye. “Another nightmare?” 

But this hadn't been a nightmare. 

“We need to leave, _now_.” Cold sweat coated your back as you pulled on your boots and struggled with the lacing, your fingers trembling too violently. 

“My love-” 

“We need to go!” 

You hated yelling at him, you hated how frightened you sounded, how all you could hear was the blood rushing through your veins – but on the other hand you did not even care in the slightest. Something was wrong and you needed to go home as fast as possible. Mum and dad...  
Tears started welling up in pure panic. Please let it be nothing, please let it be just a weird nightmare, please _please_ let them be all right. 

You stormed from the tent and nearly crashed into Jari. 

“Miss, is everything okay? I heard-” 

“We need to leave right now!” And you ran past him, bursting into Thor's tent without even as much as announcing yourself. “Please tell your men to get ready! Blacktree is in danger and I need to protect it, I need to keep my promise to protect them, they are in danger and I'm not there and what if they get injured or die and I can't save them I can't heal them if I'm not there-” 

Two broad hands settled on your shoulders and stopped your rambling, Thor's low, soothing voice worried but calming. “Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out.” With the back of one hand he softly wiped the streaming water away. “Focus on the air in your lungs.” 

Your breaths were shaking and shallow, but you followed his instructions and waited for your heart to settle a bit before continuing. 

“We need to go - my village is in trouble and they need my help.” 

“How do you know?” Not a sign of mistrust, only a question; brotherly care in his serious expression. 

“It will sound strange but I know something is wrong, the voice in my dream- I promise I haven't gone insane-” Hadn't you? Hadn't you gone insane? You focused on your breathing again for a few seconds. “It said my home is gone. It can't be good, it can't be.” 

Thor let out a deep, thoughtful sigh, his hands slipping from your shoulders as he placed one on his hip and the other on his clipped beard. “It is still very early. We have been riding for days without a proper bed and the men need all the rest they can get; not to mention that our Yllgardian 'friends' have become increasingly difficult. If I push them now, I may very soon have mutiny to deal with.” He cast you an apologetic glance. “I'm afraid we cannot leave right now.” 

“Then I will go. Please lend me a horse; I have learned enough this past month to be able to ride myself. I can't sit here and do nothing while my people may be fighting for their lives.” 

He shook his head. “I can't let you go off on your own – what if something were to happen to you? Blacktree is still four entire days of riding away and we are in bandit territory. Not only would my brother kill me if you got hurt, it would weigh heavy on all of us.” 

Your hands balled into fists as you tried to keep calm, tried to keep your emotions from taking over. “I have survived Ylva's attempts to kill me. I have survived a bildshnipe attack. I'm rather certain I can handle a few bandits.” 

“I'm sorry but I can't let you leave alone.” 

Loki entered the tent, fully dressed in his armour and ready to go. “Let me go with her, brother. We can make it in three days, maybe less.” He lay his slender hand on the small of your back, offering enough support for you to unclench your fists.

But Thor shook his head once more. “You are still a target and your magic is spent, just like hers. Splitting off from the group will surely get you killed in these territories – we were attacked _twice_ in these woods, I do not want to let the third time be a fatal one.”

You glanced over your shoulder and up at your lovers face, noticing how he realised his brother's words rang true. You saw it too, how it wouldn't be safe to go out there for the two of you; not in these conditions, not while the both of you were vulnerable - and though you were now certain that your dragon form was not created by magic and so you should still be able to change, you knew that even that wouldn't help you in the dense woods where the trees would only restrict your movements. Going out there, even with Loki by your side, was a mission doomed to fail. 

But you had made a promise. 

“Can't all of us leave earlier than planned? Ride a bit longer in the evenings, minimise the amount of days it takes to get to Blacktree?” 

You couldn't just leave those people to their own devices; most of them had no training in combat and even less knew how to treat a wound or how to set and splint a broken bone. If Med and Illas were hurt-  
No, don't think about that. Don't assume the worst. Your mum knew how to fight, how to defend them and the shop, and dad would take care of her injuries. Trust their capability, just like they trusted yours. 

“There are three hours left till sunrise. I will give my men half that time to rest before waking them up and asking them whether they agree to your wishes-” 

“The Yllgardian's won't agree,” Loki interrupted, a hint of hate lacing his voice.

“I will not take their opinions into consideration.” The golden-haired man turned back to you with determination in his eyes. “I know this is important to you. If there was trouble in Asgard I would want to get back as soon as possible as well, and I will not let a group of insurgent men take that away from you.” Then his gaze turned softer, sadder, apologetic once more. “But I care about my men and will not put their health at risk. I can increase the pace, let everyone ride a bit longer, but we will not continue during the nights and taking breaks to let everyone rest is important. Soldiers who are weary are more easily killed than those that are well-rested. Should your village need our help, they will benefit more from the latter.” 

He was right. He was almost always right. A good feature for a king, perhaps; but oh so frustrating to those whom stood close to him.  
The urge to punch an Yllgardian in the face welled up for the umpteenth time – if only they hadn't had that damned amulet, if they hadn't messed with Loki's magic and your own, then the two of you would have been able to teleport to Blacktree. You would have been able to make sure your parents were all right and if not, you would have been able to help them. And you wouldn't have to sit on the back of a horse for another four days simmering in your own panic and fear. 

Loki gently pulled you into his embrace and held you tight as you could not contain the stress, could not keep it caged. Arms tight around each other and your face buried in his leather armour. The scent of him, oh the scent of him; and his touch and his voice and his kisses to your crown; how it managed to calm you.  
But not entirely. 

With a trembling sigh you loosened your grip on him and spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “It's okay, it'll be okay” But it wasn't, it definitely wasn't, because if Blacktree was under attack right now then you ought to be there; you ought to be protecting those you cared for. 

But then you realised: that was what you were doing right now, too, right? You were protecting your lover – though he, for as far as you knew, hardly needed protecting – and his brother, who was simultaneously your friend and the to-be-king of the kingdom you were going to move to; and you were protecting your new friends and your even newer friends, if Thomas and Bjarke saw you like that. If you left for Blacktree and they got attacked and hurt, then you would feel just as horrible. 

Was there even a way in which you could protect all of them? A way in which no one was left vulnerable?

Your fingers slid into your hair and you pressed your palms against your temples. Too much thinking, too much thinking. Why couldn't you just turn it off? Why couldn't you just stop worrying and trust that things were going to be okay? Why couldn't you just accept that you couldn't possibly save every single person you met? 

The feeling of Loki's hands settling on yours made you open your eyes and look at him, at that worried expression of his. 

“My love...” 

But he himself did not even know which words to choose, or perhaps he knew all of them were useless, anyway. He could do nothing to soothe your fears.  
Did he feel bad because of that? You didn't want him to, this was not his fault – you needed to get yourself together again. 

So you inhaled deeply, trembling less already, and pushed it all aside. Or at least tried to; succeeding enough to pull the corners of your mouth up ever so slightly in what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. 

“I'm okay. I'm okay.” 

He placed a kiss on your forehead and your smile widened a bit further, in its turn causing some worry to fade from your prince's eyes. 

“Let's go back to bed. There is still some time to rest, and we will need it regardless of what may be waiting for us.” 

He turned his focus back to his brother for a few seconds but you paid no attention to the silent conversation that went on between them. Instead, you focused your eyes on Loki's elegant hands still holding yours and let them softly escort you back to your own tent, the tent that was owned by neither of you but belonged to both. Would the Yllgardians hold that against you as well? Sleeping in their tents, the ones they had brought along? Why did you even care.  
You let him take you down to the ground, let him wrap you in his arms and place a kiss on your lips, but it all felt too distant. Was this the price of not trying to feel anything? No- stop, you didn't want to think anymore. You wanted to sleep, to rest, to escape. 

But even the night, the night you trusted so deeply, broke its promise; and the dreams twisted into horrible things.

 

Eventually the ninety minutes passed and Thor began to wake the soldiers. You felt even worse than before; the spasms and the sweating and the choking on silent tears having drained any energy that you might have regained and more, and the terrifying images flickering in and out of your thoughts never having given you a moment rest. Even Loki was taken aback by the look in your eyes or the expression on your face, before he pulled you close once more and held you until you felt like you could begin another day. 

Breakfast was had, but you barely tasted it. The tents were cleared, but you were kept seated by Dagny, who had seen your hands tremble. The horses were brushed and saddled, but Loki insisted you watched instead of helped. You were useless. You were afraid and worried and feeling too much yet feeling too little, and you were useless. Why couldn't you deal with this? Why couldn't you be strong and push through? You even had to be helped with getting onto Egil, for Yggdrasil's sake!  
You just wanted to get home as soon as possible. To get home and be met with the smiling faces of your parents, to be reassured that it had all had been fine, that no one had been hurt. You were homesick. So very, very homesick. 

But you wondered if there would even be a home left to return to, when the four days of riding would finally have passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I had no internet on my laptop until now. The schedule continues like always!
> 
> [Fanart: Are you wooing prince Loki?](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/166563862353/look-at-this-gorgeous-f%C7%ABruneyti-fanart-made-by)
> 
> [Fǫruneyti blog](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)


	65. LXV

The first day of riding was nothing but stressful, almost to the point that your heart knew no rest. Your body suffered from the constant drainage of energy, yet even though you were getting more tired with every hour you spent on Egil's back, you forced yourself to stay awake; to stay alert. The nightmares were even worse than the worrying, anyway.  
And you managed to keep this up. To keep fighting the allure of sleep until evening fell, and by that point even the terrifying dreams were too weary to haunt you; allowing the night to be peaceful and your mind to get some well-needed rest. 

But it was clear that, during the day, your demeanor influenced those of the others. Thor's men had grown more and more on-edge, had started to worry about whatever may lay ahead themselves, and the Yllgardians had grown increasingly irritated. They had began to murmur about 'those damned female hormones' and how 'women are only a pain in the arse', casting hateful glances at both you and Dagny while assuming both of you had started your monthly bleeding. This, in its turn, made Loki grow dangerously irritated as well. 

If it hadn't been for the low level of his magical energy he would already have incinerated every single one of them. 

Instead he just gripped your hips tightly, maybe a bit too tightly; but the discomfort provided distraction from everything else going on inside of you and so you said nothing, let him dig his fingers into your skin and keep himself from murdering every insubordinate soldier around. The absence of his magic already made him a bit moody, and right now he needed everything you could offer him to keep his composure in tact. 

Oh, how your mind shifted without direction. You wanted to reassure your prince, wanted to make love to him and feel at ease, while at the same time you wanted nothing more than to ride four entire days without a moment rest. You wanted to take on your dragon body and fly, reach Blacktree in maybe a day or less, but to do that you would have to abandon everything – perhaps even your own life; because even though you had two forms you were sure that if you died wearing one of them, the other one would perish just the same. And with your energy levels so low, how could you trust yourself to survive, let alone fight? You didn't even know if your wings could keep you in the air in this state or if you would instantly crash back into the ground. 

And so the evening came. Yes, the night was peaceful, and yes, you woke up more deeply rested than before, but the prospect alone of another three days riding made your heart sink and tears spring up in the corners of your eyes. What if it was already too late? 

“It hurts me to see you like this, my love. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” 

There was still some time to go before the others would awaken and so you lay in Loki's arms, his green-blue eyes scanning your face before he pressed a tender kiss against your lips. 

“Let me distract you, if only temporarily.” 

He tugged the hem of your shirt upwards and slowly you complied, allowing him to slip the garment up over your arms and to lay it aside. His hand smoothened over your arm as he kissed you, again and again, so lovingly; before he pushed you onto your back and moved his mouth down over your neck and collarbone and further down yet. As his lips reached your belly button he began to pull down your remaining clothes and gently parted your knees, settling himself between them and setting his tongue to work.  
And he was right; it worked. Your head fell back as he licked so skillfully, lapped at your sensitive flesh in a way that was both erotic and sweet, and your fingers took gentle hold of his long, raven locks to keep him in place. How he kissed, sucked, spread you with his fingers to gain deeper access – it made everything around you fade and all thoughts disappear for a while. Slowly the spring inside your stomach began to coil tighter and tighter until it snapped and your back arched, rapture and ecstasy rippling through you. 

He moved back up to lay himself beside you again. “Know that you can come to me for anything, my love. Advice, lessons on magic, distractions, pleasure; just ask. Let me take care of you.” 

You smiled lightly. “Only if you will allow me to take care of you as well.” 

Your hand slid over his shirt and beneath the waist band of his pants and the groan he gave in response stirred up some butterflies. This was good, this was a perfect distraction, one which both of you would benefit from. If you could keep both his stress and your own at a minimum then perhaps the heavy atmosphere might lift a bit.  
You softly wrapped your hand around his cock and gave him a squeeze, eliciting another moan. 

“But we will have to be quiet, we don't want to wake the others.” 

His smirk only grew at the playful wink you gave him. “As I recall, _you_ were the most vocal out of the two of us.” 

“Perhaps,” you gave him a kiss and tasted both your sweetness, “but that doesn't mean you were in any way _quiet_. Especially not when I took you in your Jotun form. So sweetly you cried out, all because of a bit of warmth-”

He silenced you with a kiss but you could feel him smile against your lips before he sought further entrance, his hand settling firmly on your rear and pulling you against him. 

“Keep saying those kinds of things and I will make sure even the farthest tents will hear you moan.”

You giggled. “Let's save this challenge for when we get to Asgard, all right?” 

“It's good to hear you laugh again.” 

And before you could respond he pulled your hand from his pants and pinned it with the other above your head while he locked his mouth over yours and pressed his knee between your legs.  
He only broke the kiss to take care of his clothes, his voice dark and smooth in a way that sent pleasurable shivers down your spine. 

“Remember to be quiet now, my love. I have no desire to share you.” 

And with that he rubbed his member over your folds and coated himself in your arousal, so that when he finally lined up with your entrance he could slide in without difficulty. Both with your eyes closed and teeth sinking in lower lips as he sheathed himself to the hilt, holding back the sounds even when he lifted your hips a bit and began to move. Patient, lovingly slow, kissing you while his hands roamed your body before one moved to caress the sensitive nub at the apex of your thighs. He was being so gentle, so thoughtful and caring that your nose began to tingle so you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his neck. 

“I love you,” you whispered, “I love you so much,” and between pants he answered with an 'I love you too' before claiming your mouth again and taking you with him into an oblivion where only bliss existed. 

As you lay in his naked embrace afterwards you could only pray to the Gods and the universe itself;  
pray that he would never be taken from you. 

 

 

The second day of riding was easier, somehow. Perhaps the sex had truly done wonders for your mood, which in turn affected the others, or your heart had somehow found a way to cope with the constant stress. The embrace of your lover felt supporting once more, no longer merely a distraction from yourself. Perhaps you had accepted your fate. Because whether you arrived right now or in a few days, it either ended up with one of the four possibilities:  
One: nothing had happened, and everyone would be all right.  
Two: they were still fighting whatever was attacking them, and you could help.  
Three: the attacker or attackers had lost, and once you arrived you could help patching up the survivors.

Or four: Blacktree had lost, and everyone would be dead when you got there. 

But that was only one out of four options and so there was only a small chance that that prediction would come true, right? Did probability work that way? You had never really calculated it before. You had merely judged by the severity of the wounds or illnesses and not by the possible outcomes, as you had focused on only one: the survival and recovery of the patients. But now you were on your way to a 'patient' you had not seen in over a month, who may possibly be suffering from something that could very well be lethal, but there was no way of finding out until you got there. You couldn't rely on anything but probability.

The universe had proven to be quite kind to you, however. Sure, Yggdrasil had made you suffer more than enough, but you had been handsomely rewarded afterwards – in more than one way. 

You chuckled at the little joke and your 'handsome reward' slipped his hands from your hips to wrap his arms fully around you; his lips placing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Tell me what's on your mind.” 

“You,” you replied with a smile, and turned your head to press your cheek against his. 

“Oh?” You could hear the playfulness slip into his honey smooth voice. “Indulge me, what part of me, exactly, are you thinking of?” 

Luckily the forest was dense, and the others were riding far enough away to be out of earshot. 

“Not the part _you_ may be thinking of, my prince. Though I suppose it may be part of it, in some way.” 

“I am lost.” 

You snickered. “Your beauty.” 

“Ah yes, I remember the conversation you had with that soldier's sister-” 

“Dagny-” 

“With Dagny; about finding that specific part of me beautiful. I must say it was a rather amusing choice of subject.” 

“Oh shush, she started it. But it wasn't on my mind today; well, not until you introduced it into the conversation.” 

He chuckled and moved his lips to your neck. “Then what else of me do you find oh so handsome, my sweetest healer?” 

“Everything.” 

He tensed a bit, you guessed in surprise, and you rolled your eyes. “You know I find everything about you beautiful, or at least you should have realised that by now. Do you not remember what I said to you that night I made love to your Jotun form?” 

“You keep bringing that up, my love; I am beginning to think you desire more like it-” 

“Of course,” no shame in your voice, though your cheeks gained colour, “but that is not the point I am trying to make right now. Well, do you remember?” 

“I do not think I can ever forget them.” 

You let one of your hands slip from the reins and lay it on his arm. “Good.” 

A few seconds passed and you heard how his breathing changed, how he was trying to find the right words only to hold them back before they slipped from his lungs. But you were patient. And, after a few more seconds of barely audible struggling, he finally spoke: 

“It is not that I am not flattered, but why? Why was I on your mind when there are so many things going on for you, my love? Don't get me wrong, I was relieved to hear you laugh.” 

Now it was your turn to hesitate. Would your newfound method of keeping most of the stress at bay sound childish? Or naive? Or perhaps a tad melodramatic? Oh why were you hesitating, it was not like he would care about something so silly, anyway. 

“It's just... I was thinking about home, about everything that could be happening there right now; but I remembered how I have been put through suffering before and how I have been rewarded for staying strong, or pushing through. I thought – well, I am hoping it will be the same this time.” 

He was silent for a bit, and you forced yourself not to jump to conclusions regarding his thoughts or feelings. And it was good that you hadn't, because no matter which conclusion you had gotten to, it wouldn't have been the right one anyway. 

“I am glad you can find solace in that way of thinking, but I...” His tone had fallen to something sadder, almost regretful. “There was no need for you to suffer like that. I could have prevented it if only I had realised your feelings toward me sooner, if I had been able to accept that I could truly be loved by someone.” 

“Hey, that was not your fault! Nothing of that has been your fault, Loki.” You hated how you couldn't turn around and shoot him a serious look. “There were many times where I could have confessed as well, but I didn't. Yes, sometimes I regret it, but I don't fully blame myself for any of it; things just happened the way they did and there's no point in dwelling on it now.” 

You took in a deep breath, and, as Loki did not respond, you continued. 

“I may have suffered, and we both may have made dumb decisions that led to even more suffering, but look at it this way: we're here now, aren't we? When I heard that my feelings were reciprocated, the happiness I felt was enough to negate all the pain I had endured before. Those few dark weeks are nothing compared to how many weeks I still hope to love you.” 

He buried his face in your neck and you tilted your face to give him better access. 

“My lady Silvertongue.” 

You smiled fondly. “So I trust that the universe will be kind to me again, no matter how much I will have to endure; because I know it will be worth it in the end. And this time I've got you to get me through it all. My reward from Yggdrasil.” 

He softly bit down where neck and shoulder met, before softly brushing over the mark with his lips.  
“There are too many words I want to say to you, too many things I want to do to you. You are no less a reward to me, my love; the term 'miracle' may be more accurate even if you don't agree. Just know that if I was your first reward and this period of suffering will get you your second, I can only pray it will not be another man. As I said, I am not planning on sharing you.” 

You giggled, your free hand slipping into his raven locks to gingerly keep his mouth against your skin, and he complied by giving you another mark that elicited a tiny whimper from your throat.

“No man could satisfy me better than you, my Loki. Not in love and not in bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fanart: Are you wooing prince Loki?](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/166563862353/look-at-this-gorgeous-f%C7%ABruneyti-fanart-made-by)
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> I also made a discord! Check the Fǫruneyti Tumblr for the link ^^
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> [Fǫruneyti blog](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)


	66. LXVI

The rest of the day ran rather smoothly, and, when evening came, everyone was greeted with the sight of a small village. An unanimous sigh ran through the party. A proper bed tonight, with blankets against the cold and pillows to lay your weary heads to rest upon. No more hunting for food, either – the tavern would have meat and vegetables and ale, and the bakery would have fresh loafs of bread in the morning; oh how everyone looked forward to it, to that warm and welcoming atmosphere that reminded everyone of home. 

But to you, it stung.

Sure, you couldn't wait for a good meal or a soft bed that wasn't made out of moss, and seeing this village stand unharmed eased a bit of your worries, but it also reminded you of how close you were to Blacktree – and how you still couldn't reach it. Two more days. Two more days of riding – a distance _you_ could cross in mere hours.  
The thought of taking some soldiers on your back crossed your mind but you dismissed it almost immediately: not only would something like that require practice, it would also leave those who stayed behind vulnerable. You hadn't even trained the usual stuff in over two years, only having shown yourself to the villagers when you had to scare off some bandits or had to keep up the morale. 

They hadn't been quick to accept; especially not the ones that hadn't believed in the old tales of dragons in the first place. 'A magic trick', they had called it, and you had silently agreed with them inside your mind – but you knew you needed to convince them that it had been a true dragon and that it was like the legends, that it would protect them and posed no danger; because if they thought it was magic and someone found out about yours, the right conclusion was easily found. In Blacktree you were the only one with the ability, after all.  
So one evening, a day after you had first shown yourself soaring through the twilight sky, the town council called together all the villagers at the town hall and you had joined them; waiting for the right moment.

Kallias, the head of the council, shushed the crowd with her presence alone as she entered, and took her place on the wooden dais. 

“You all know the reason behind this meeting.” 

Her voice showed not a year of her age, gentle and strong as it sounded, but her face began to betray her. Lines beside her eyes that crinkled when she smiled, her skin losing some of its tanned colour and instead beginning to form little spots that you knew would grow darker with every season that passed. It wouldn't change people's opinion on her or her wisdom, however. She had been the head of the council for longer than you had been alive, and living in Blacktree while not looking up to her would have been impossible in every thinkable way. She solved disputes between villagers when they could not do it themselves, made sure everyone did what they were supposed to do and did so in good health, and she offered security and hope in times where people lost their strength.  
Besides your parents, she was who you looked up to the most. 

“We do not yet know whether the legends are true and the Dragon of Blacktree exists, or if it was some kind of trick.” She scanned the people filling the long hall, no one daring to speak. “We have heard of users of magic beyond this village, yet as fas as I know none of such exist here. If I am wrong, please step forward; no repercussions will come your way.” 

You hated lying to her but your plan was clear inside your mind, and so you did not move an inch. No one did. 

“All right. Then we have only two possibilities left. One: a foreigner capable of magic has created the illusion of a dragon. It is possible they mean to harm us or exploit our work, yet they could just as well be simply passing through. Two: what we saw is no mere trick and the legends are true; a real dragon resides somewhere in the forest or the mountains. If this is true, then so far it has showed no malicious intent. In both cases we do not know how long they have been there and if they will stay or leave. 

Soft murmuring arose and Kallias stepped aside so Andhes, the second council member who stood with pen and pencil in hand, could step up the platform and stand beside her. 

“Before we know who or what it is and what they want, there is not much we can do. What we _can_ do, mainly from a perspective of protecting ourselves, is round up a few to do patrols and perhaps send out a few to scout the area every once in a while. Is there anyone who would like to volunteer for either position?” 

This was it. 

“I would like to volunteer as scout.” 

The crowd parted to let you through as you made your way to the front. 

“I know the area like the back of my hand, and anything that has changed will catch my eye. I can tell whether a trail is made by the common wildlife, a human, or something else entirely; and I can follow it.” 

Both Andhes and Kallias seemed surprised, and the whispering behind you told you they were not the only ones. Andhes was the first to find his voice, however. 

“But you are one of our only healers; what if that... person, thing, whatever is out there – what if they are violent? We need you back at the village, to help should we be attacked.” 

The whispers rose in volume. Does she not fear to find death? What if it turns out to be a dragon? Why would she volunteer for something so dangerous? Does she not value her life? 

“My parents are very capable healers. I may have taken over most of their work at our shop, but they have not forgotten a single thing about their profession; and we do not yet know whether the person or creature means to harm. So far we have been left undisturbed.” You rose your chin with confidence. “I believe I possess the right set of skills to track down whatever is out there, to study it from the shadows, and to come back here unharmed. I know where to hide, what places to avoid, where to go first. If I should get hurt I know how to treat my wounds with what nature provides.” 

Kallias seemed almost convinced; one more question left on her mind: “And what if it turns out to be a dragon after all?”

You chose your expression carefully: fake fear, overcome by even faker bravery. A role, made by and for you, the actor who hoped to influence the story in a way that would benefit everyone. And besides, it wouldn't be so bad if people thought you were brave, right? Even if you yourself were aware of the fact that there was no danger at all.  
“We all know the incident with the wolf; not to mention that more than once I have managed to calm a rearing horse or a terrified cow. I would go as far as to say that I am rather good with animals, and so I hope a dragon will be no different. Yet, most of all, I hope to remain hidden and prevent a confrontation. As I said, I know where and how to hide, and I can use my familiarity with the landscape to my advantage.” 

The people beside you nodded almost solemnly, lost in thought as they remembered the things you had brought up and realised the chances were in your favour. Kallias was over to your side, a small nod the sign of her agreement even though her eyes still stood worried – but Andhes proved to be a tough one. 

“Aske and Dern are our finest hunters. They, too, know the landscape; how to track creatures, how to go unnoticed.” 

You nodded, keeping a tight rein on your budding frustration. “I am not saying I should be the only one to scout the woods; I merely volunteer to help in every way I can.” 

“Can't you take one of them with you?” Althea, the third member of the council, finally spoke up from her position in front of the dais. She was the youngest of the three and so in status below them, but that did not mean no one listened to her words – she was still a member of the council. 

Andhes seemed to like her idea. “They will not slow you down and can protect you should the person or dragon attack.” 

It was a strong argument, one you could not simply cast aside if you didn't want to raise suspicion, and so you had to choose your words carefully. 

“The woods stretch far and it will take a lot of time to scout it all, but if everyone goes alone - or for those who do not know the area as well, in pairs – we can travel further and search the area faster. I have been training with Medhea and Audun and I should be able to defend myself if it would come to that. Maybe I do not know enough to fight back or to defend others, which is why I didn't volunteer for patrol, but this – this is what I'm good at; this is what I can help with.”

“Then it is decided, Andhes;” Kallias gave him a pointed look, “she will join the scouts. I am convinced of her capability and we need all the help we can get. Write her down.” 

The worry had only grown in the man's eyes but he complied, writing your name on the paper he had brought along.

“All right then. Any others?” 

 

 

After all volunteers for both tasks had been written down and a schedule for the patrols had been established, the meeting ended and everyone was free to go. Though the first groups would already start guarding the village the scouts would only leave the morning after, leaving at the first rays of light and required to be back before the sun reached the highest point in the heavens, or a search party would leave in the same direction. Luckily you would have no trouble making it back in time.  
The volunteers who did not dare go alone or who were too vulnerable were allowed to team up, but time was of the essence – the sooner they found out what their intentions were, the sooner Blacktree could prepare for an attack. So, when the night faded into day, the groups left; you, of course, amongst them.

The first part of the plan had worked; now for the second. 

After splitting up you hiked up the mountain, wandered towards the temple ruins, and sat down on one of the fallen pillars; your mind going over what you needed to do. You needed mud to make it seem like you had truly tracked down a creature – or a person, for all they knew – and then you needed to take a long, long walk while making sure you did not run into anyone else. You would have enough time to rehearse the words you were going to say. And when the mud had dried and flaked off, when your body was sweaty and a bit tired, and when you looked as if you had truly seen a real dragon, then you would return; and the last and possibly most difficult part of the plan would be set in motion. Your success depended on what you said and how you said it. 

Two hours passed as you repeated it in your head over and over again, preparing yourself for each and every question that may come your way, until you stumbled upon some doubt. 

Would they trust you enough?

Your reputation was a positive one, and healers were most likely not often mistrusted unless too many died under their care – which, luckily, wasn't the case – but talking to a dragon sounded even more surreal than seeing one. What if they wanted evidence, or wanted to talk to the creature themselves? You needed to make it dangerous somehow; to keep them from even considering it.  
You took your dagger from its scabbard and brought it to your arm. Breathe in, breathe out. Just a smooth slash, that was all. Nothing you couldn't heal. Nothing to be afraid of. And so you bit your lip, set the blade to your sleeve, and in one quick movement cut through both fabric and flesh.

The pain was easily blocked out with the help of your magic and you let the blood flow for as long as you imagined the conversation with the dragon to continue, but you didn't heal it. Instead you found a creek to wash the wound, searched for some leaves with anti-inflammatory properties to squeeze out above it, and bound it up with leaves that you knew killed any harmful bacteria you didn't want to get into your bloodstream. After turning over the tainted dirt and cleaning your dagger, you continued on your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more backstory! :3 
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> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)


	67. LXVII

The moment you stepped out of the forest's shade and were spotted by a villager people rushed towards you, asking questions, making sure you were okay, but, above all, more than curious to know what had happened. You couldn't blame them; especially not with the way your disheveled looks were enough to make their imagination run wild.  
You were fine, it was merely a scratch, it didn't really hurt anymore; but you waited with telling about what had happened until everyone had returned. It was best if everyone hear it from your lips than someone else's, you explained; lest the words changed into vague and inaccurate ones. Rumours were never truly a good thing.  
But it didn't take long for the others to return – you had timed your arrival with care – and Audun, worried as he was, insisted he escorted you back to the town hall where another impromptu gathering would soon begin. 

“I told you I should have gone with you! Or my dad, or my aunt-” 

“It wouldn't have made a difference, believe me.” 

Kallias wasted no time and spoke only a few short sentences before letting you step on the dias and turn towards the crowd. Everyone fell silent. 

Breathe in, breathe out. You had rehearsed this. The final part that needed to succeed, the last thing you needed to do before you would be able to protect them. 

“As I went further up the mountain I noticed a strange trail, too wide to be made by boars or dear. The lowest hanging branches had been snapped or broken as if something big had passed by, but no stag – no matter the size of its antlers – would have been able to reach that high; not to mention that they tread with utmost care. I knew this couldn't have been bade by a person, either; magic user or not.” 

Everyone held their breaths, hanging from each and every syllable that slipped past your lips and sounded through the hall, eyes wide and mouths agape as the meaning of your words sank in. Good.  
“I prepared myself to track down a creature no one had known existed. I covered myself in mud to hide my scent, kept my position downwind, moved as silently as I could, and held my hand on my dagger as it rested against my hip – I had to be focused, had to be prepared for everything.” 

Soft whispering rose but quickly extinguished again when Kallias hushed them with a single movement of her hand, her wide eyes never leaving your face. 

“But I was unaware that it had noticed my presence long before I took those measures.” 

The fearful and shocked gasps eased some of your anxiety to fail, but you kept your hands trembling slightly. After such an 'intense experience' it would only look natural. 

“I only saw a flash of black, a shadow, quick as lightning as it struck; its claw cutting through my arm.” You undid the improvised bandaging and lowered it, showing the caked blood and the wound beneath it. You hadn't thought their eyes to be capable of growing wider, but you were pleasantly surprised. “It hissed at me like a snake as it kept its distance, and I realised... I realised it could have killed me – but it hadn't.” 

You took a deep breath as Audun rushed up the stage to re-do your work, but after a few seconds of fumbling your even more deeply-worried father took over the task and managed to put it back in place; if only temporary. You continued undisturbed.

“It had merely been a warning. It studied me, silently, calculating, hissing once more as I unsheathed my dagger but stopping as soon as I threw it aside. 'I won't harm you', I told it when I found my voice. I could not really believe it yet, couldn't fully grasp the situation I was in – I think that even now I haven't fully given it a place yet – but in the moment I knew that one wrong move could mean the end of me.” 

You glanced at your audience, relieved to see that not one face showed even the faintest hint of distrust. 

“And it... it seemed confused. It tilted its head and kept looking at me with those eyes... and then- then it-” You moved your eyes as if searching for something, an explanation, something that would make sense of it all as you seemed lost for words. Oh how you wished you could see your own performance. 

“And then it _spoke_.” 

Confusion – and, for some, deeper shock – crept onto their faces; frowns and grimaces as they tried to grasp the strange concept – the concept of a talking dragon. 

“Not like you and me, not with its mouth, but – but in my _head_ , I could hear its voice inside my _head_.”

Full-on conversations exploded throughout the hall and it took both Kallias and Andhes quite some effort to subdue it this time. 

“What did it say?” The head of the council gently inquired, both as a sign for you to continue and for the others to shut up. 

“It asked me what my intentions were, and when I told it about how I – how all of us – had seen it and had wondered if the legend was true, it seemed even more surprised that I could understand it. It asked me to elaborate, and I... well, I did; and afterwards it seemed to almost nod. It told me how it had been looking for a safe place to settle and promised that, if no one would ever try to harm it, it would protect all of us in return. So I gave it my word.” 

One question after another got shouted through the room, but you were not yet done with your story and so, sweet, sweet Kallias, shushed everyone for a third time. 

“It asked me to come with it to a place where we could talk more comfortably and lead me to the ruins of what must have been a temple once, with a large cave behind it.” The memory of the dying dragon flashed through your mind. “It apologised for wounding me, and we... we settled on some rules; for both its and our protection.” You glanced over to Andhes, who quickly fumbled for his pencil and paper, then looked back at the rest of the people you had known for your entire life. “First of all I promised no one would go looking for it. It will protect us but it will do so from a distance, as it prefers to live its live in solitude.” 

Someone raised a hand and you nodded for them to speak up. 

“But if no one can go up there, then how do we, like... ask stuff? Or how do we know it will keep its word? What if it leaves in a few years time but hasn't let us know, and we think we are still under its protection?” 

“It has appointed me as its orator. The dragon thought it best if as few people as possible know of its whereabouts; to protect it.” 

“What does that mean?” “Will we not be allowed to go see it? “Protect it against what?” 

Althea was the one to ask for silence this time. 

“It means that I will act as some kind of... some kind of spokesperson between us and the dragon. And yes, I will be the only one to go up there; but maybe I can ask it to come down and show itself to you, if only once? It will probably understand, I think.” 

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of your own words, but you managed to keep it all in. Just a bit longer, a few more things you needed to clear up before you could stop this ridiculous act. You knew it was necessary. For their trust, their safety, for yours; an intricately spun lie that would benefit every party involved. 

“Secondly, it does not want any offerings or rituals or things like that; it just wants to be left alone with the occasional exception of me. I'd rather not irritate it, so I beg of you to leave it be.” To your relief the people nodded almost solemnly; some with a bit of healthy fear in their eyes. “Thirdly, we cannot ask it to do things for us unless it is a threat to out peace or our existence. We will have to be aware of danger ourselves, too. The dragon cannot see and hear everything that happens in the woods, so if anything is wrong it is your task to tell me, and my task to tell the creature. And lastly, we will have to treat this knowledge as a secret that may never leave Blacktree. The longer we keep the dragon hidden the longer it will be able to help us out.” 

When you finished speaking it was silent this time; your words yet needing to settle, to find a place in their minds – but it seemed like none were having too much difficulty accepting it. 

Andhes wrote down the last rule and Althea escorted you off the stage with a proud pat on your hand, Kallias taking your place in the centre. 

“This is good news. She has been able to strike a deal with a dragon; a deal that is in no way a double edged sword like most, and a deal that could benefit us for a long time to come.” 

“I say we celebrate!” 

You rolled your eyes at Audun but the people agreed by cheering loudly, chanting your name and clapping their hands. In a few seconds the atmosphere had gone from heavy to festive, and you could do nothing but go with it. 

You remembered the festivities with fondness, though. How, the next day, everyone had gathered wood for the bonfire, how the baker had fired up his four ovens all at once, and how everyone had dressed up when the evening finally came. Music mixed with the laughter as the villagers danced around the fire, the scent of freshly baked bread mingling with the ale that spilled. They had needed it - _you_ had needed it, had needed a way to let out all of the pent-up stress and forget all the things that had happened, even if only for a while; so you danced and laughed and took part in the festivities for what felt like the first time in forever. 

All you wanted was for another party to be held; another fest you could spend dancing with the people you cared for. A winter or summer solstice, Day of the Dragon, Harvest Day – anything, anything at all; just to know that everything was okay and life was still worth celebrating.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump slightly, but when you turned to meet your prince's soft gaze the surprise faded quickly. 

“Come, my love.” He lifted his hand and gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. “You need to rest. The sooner this evening ends, the sooner tomorrow can begin.” He cupped your cheek, placing a kiss against your lips before they curled at the corners. “Unless, of course, you would like me to distract you again?” 

You chuckled. “I must admit, your ways of distracting me do work quite well; but I think I am more in the mood for just... just laying together. Talking or not, it doesn't really matter. I enjoy your company either way.”

His glance softened to one so deeply loving it made warmth bloom inside your chest.

“Then lay with you I will.” 

 

He guided you up the stairs and to the room the two of you would share for the night, where you helped him push the separate beds together before pulling off your boots and slipping underneath the sheets. As soon as he joined you he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his embrace, thin lips against yours for only a second. Oh those beautiful eyes of him, those sharp cheekbones and those raven locks, and oh that look on his face. The stress would have already consumed you if it hadn't been for his soothing presence. 

You stayed like that, whispering softly about all sorts of things – positive things, sometimes meaningless and silly while other times hopeful and heavy, but in a good way. How he was going to show you all around the palace, the smirking prince not able to keep from joking about how he would make love to you in each and every corridor; and how you would love the gardens and the healer's wing. Once more he mentioned how he couldn't wait to introduce you to his mother and the excitement in both his voice and gaze was so contagious that you couldn't help but feel that saturated love blossom within. 

And so, as you lay in your lover's arms, the night finally took away your consciousness and replaced it with peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr, for updates, song recs, asks, and more!](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord, where you can talk to me or the other Fǫruneyti readers!](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)
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> I'm so incredibly hyped for all the fanart that you guys are making! There's going to be a drawing of a POC Healer and her dragon form, a few drawings of a How To Train Your Dragon AU, and perhaps even some interpretations of Thor's men! Not to mention that I have been commissioned for both Foruneyti art and writing! It makes me oh so very happy ♡ (●´ω｀●)
> 
> Also, Tumblr user QuiteIskald made a really cool playlist!! Check it out!  
> [Fǫruneyti on Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/user/fern-walk/playlist/2zQ3kWx0wfrCaM5eOiCLpN)


	68. LXVIII

Your body was rested, your mind a bit more at ease, and you felt how quite a bit of your magic had restored in the last few days. This was good. If anything had happened, anything at all, then you could be of help; you could protect them, heal them, make sure they were okay. You just has to trust that it wasn't yet too late.  
And so you sat through breakfast, glad to see the moods of Thor's men had lifted a bit, and when the time came to brush and saddle the horses you felt determination settle inside your heart. With both your bags over your shoulders and a confident gaze you rode out with the others, Loki's arms around your waist as he let you have full control over Egil. 

Two more days. Two more days. 

The woods were dense and so all of you rode rather far apart, but when the environment allowed it the others often came closer to talk. Stigr with his stories of adventure, Iver with his hunting tales, or Jari, who always managed to make you laugh with his stories so silly you wondered how much of it had truly happened. It almost felt like the first few days after leaving Blacktree, when they had eased your boredom with their memories and jokes.  
A fond smile made its way onto your lips. These men, who had gone from strangers to friends to family, who protected you, cared for you, and whom you could care for and protect in turn; they were a source of happiness, another group of stars in your increasingly brighter night. 

Well, with the exception of Einer. 

You spotted him to your left, having switched positions with Brant about an hour ago. His expression betrayed nothing - not a shred of emotion other than irritation. Was it just because his face felt more comfortable that way or was he truly always in a bad mood? At first you had opted not to judge him too quickly, had hoped to see his colours appear when you got to know him better, but the more things he said the more you had begun to dislike him. And you weren't the only one. All of Thor's men were close like friends, like brothers; they joked and laughed and argued and settled their differences with each other, with every soldier in their group, except for him. He stood beside it all, a lone wolf that followed a pack he barely seemed a part of. Had none of them tried to bond with him or had they simply given up after a while? Had Einer himself tried to fit in and decided it wasn't what he wanted or needed?  
Besides he group conversations he sometimes took part in – and in which he often just complained – you hadn't spoken with him a lot. Should you have tried harder? Should you have been stubborn, like you had been with Loki? Still, even Loki hadn't had that aura around him that screamed 'stay away' like the one that seemed to radiate from the solitary guard. It was as if the man tried everything in his power to keep people at bay. 

Was it a defense mechanism? If so, against what? And how could he not be lonely, with the distance he was taking from everyone? You knew you would be - but then again, you couldn't just assume things for others. 

So you turned your mind to other paths, to the plausible conclusions you could come to when looking at the facts. He was a good fighter, he had to be; why else would he be chosen to be a member of the crown prince's personal guard? And he must, in some way, be an asset to the team. It couldn't be teamwork, for obvious reasons, and it couldn't be his skills in combat – there were most likely lots of other great fighters who were more socially apt than Einer was.  
Your gaze shifted to the golden-haired prince riding a bit ahead. Perhaps you could ask him later.

 

 

When around midday the time came for a break you hopped off of Egil and made your way to Thor, keeping Einer in your peripheral vision. 

“Can I... Ask you something?” 

He smiled, warm as always. “Of course, what is on your mind?”

How were you going to put this without seeming rude instead of simply curious? You made sure to keep your tone light and free of any hints towards dislike or accusations; but was the question on its own something you were allowed to ask? Yet the words fell from your lips before you had the chance to hold them back.

“I was wondering about Einer and how he came to be part of your guard.” 

To your relief he chuckled, taking no offense in your bluntness. Instead he apparently decided to be a bit blunt himself as well. 

“He was not afraid to fight me.” 

When you only frowned in confusion, lips parting as if to begin speaking but your mind coming up empty on words, he elaborated:

“When it is time for a new member to join my guard I visit the recruits. I gauge their speed, their strength, their intelligence, anything they may need in battle; and I select those who excel. First I let them fight each other, both one-on-one and in groups, and then I challenge them myself. Some will hold back. They will let me win simply because I am royalty, or perhaps they think I will not pick anyone who beats me in battle out of frustration with my own shortcomings. When I challenged Einer to test his skill, however, he gave me all he had. All of these men did.” 

He smiled fondly as he glanced around, observing the soldiers he had chosen. “There is not only the danger of being attacked physically. Loki has played his mind tricks on me often enough that I began to realise it could be a weakness, that others with the same abilities could turn me against my own men. If that were to happen I need them to be able to knock me out.”

You had never thought about it like that; once more you had simply assumed that everyone with magic would use their gift to do good. How naive. Luckily Thor had realised it sooner - but then again, perhaps it was Loki who deserved the credit. Your eyes found your lover a bit further off and a fond smile tugged on your lips. A trickster from an early age; you wouldn't have expected anything else from the mischievous and playful Loki. 

“I imagine your mother must have had quite the troublous times.” 

“And how,” Thor snickered, glancing at his brother as well. “But you should hear those stories from her lips, not mine. I cannot do them justice, yet I promise that Frigga will make you howl with laughter. Her timing has always been great.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

A comfortable silence settled as both of you watched the raven-haired prince take care of his steed, and while Thor most likely reminisced on the old days you could only conjure a young and happy Loki inside your mind by setting your imagination to work; not allowing yourself to think of the endless negativity that had haunted him. Surely he had had fun times, too, right? 

He must have felt your gaze on him as he looked up from his task and answered your smile with one of his own, then made his way over to the two of you. 

“I hope you know I do not take kindly on those who talk about me behind my back.” But he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your hip against his, no real irritation but only that signature playfulness lacing his words. 

“Only good things, I promise.” 

Thor grinned and Loki opened his mouth for no doubt a sassy reply, but all of you, including Thor's men, fell silent when the Yllgardian soldiers finally appeared from all around – with their hands raised and armed men pushing them forwards. 

The party was surrounded by bandits. 

 

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Thor lay his hand on the sword hanging from his hip and his men quickly followed, muscles tensed and bodies ready to jump into action. 

Your hand searched for your dagger, but found it gone – Dagny still had it. You scanned your surroundings without moving an inch and let out an unnoticeable sigh when you found her at Brant's side. She was safe, for now. 

One of the bandits stepped forward. 

“Here we are again.” He harshly pushed the Yllgardian in front of him to his knees and stepped past him, another taking over his position to keep an arrow aimed at the soldier's back. A nasty smirk appeared on his face as he scanned everyone's faces, and suddenly met your eyes specifically. “I have to say, I didn't expect you to still be alive, missy.” 

You froze, eyes widening.  
What was he talking about?

The man huffed, his greasy brown hair tied back into a messy ponytail and his scruffy beard untended to. “Of course I aimed for that snake,” he shifted his gaze to your lover for a moment, “but alas, I missed. I was happy to see I at least got your arm, though; knew the poison would take your life soon. But now, now I am glad you somehow managed to survive. Little did I know you are worth so much more than that royal piece of shit.” 

Chaos erupted inside your mind. Your arm? Poison?-

Oh. _Oh._

“You were the ones that attacked us after we left Blacktree.” 

“Gotcha!” He pointed both index fingers at you and grinned as if this was a happy reuniting, slowly but casually moving closer, and Loki shot him a dangerous look. It did him nothing. “No need to become all mean, frostie.” 

It was Loki's turn to tense up, and the man sniggered. 

“Though it _is_ a wonderful surprise! Weren't you going to marry that pale-arse bitch? What was her name again? Ill, Illy, Illness... Ylva! Yes, Ylva; how could I forget.” He placed a hand over his brow and shook his head softly, his smile even madder than before. “And now you're back here! With her! Ohoho yes, wonderful, wonderful indeed. I suppose I must thank you for keeping her alive.” He bowed theatrically with one hand to his chest and the other swung out to the side. But when he straightened his back again a dangerous kind of seriousness twinkled in his eyes. 

“Now, hand her over to me.” 

“ _Never._ ” Loki nearly growled the word, setting a step forward to shield you behind him. His knuckles turned white from the force with which he held onto his dagger. 

“Tut tut, it will be easier if you cooperate. I won't hurt her, I promise. I won't harm a hair on her head. As for the others, however...” He snapped his fingers and one of his fellow men drew his bow-

“Wait! We're not with them!” The 'leader' of the Yllgardians, the guy who had caused the most trouble before, pointed at the soldier they had been about to shoot. “We are from Yllgard, not Asgard! Let us go!” 

“Oh? Do I hear that right?” He cocked his head to the side and grinned again in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Someone's not loyal?” He walked over to the soldier and gave a content pout as he glanced him over. “Good. I like that. Less of a mess, you know?” He made a nondescript gesture with his hand. “If you promise me that you'll be an obedient boy and take your friends back home then you're free to go.” 

“Don't you dare leave!” Thor's voice boomed like thunder, but his warning was not heeded. 

The group of bandits did not lower their bows and swords but did set a step back, allowing the Yllgardians to get up and scurry off into the woods, and they didn't waste a second. They took the reins of their horses from the attackers and made their escape with such speed the betrayal stung even harder. Only Thomas and Bjarke stayed, but from the way they held their daggers you knew they had no true skill in combat. So much for the extra protection. 

The bandit leader chuckled. “Well, good riddance; and on both sides, I suppose. Disloyal pigs, eh?” Another snap of his fingers and now their weapons were aimed at the remaining men of the prince's guard. “Well, now that that has been taken care of, let's get back to business. Give me the girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr, for updates, song recs, asks, and more!](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord, where you can talk to me or the other Fǫruneyti readers!](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/user/fern-walk/playlist/2zQ3kWx0wfrCaM5eOiCLpN)
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> Uni is beginning to suck up all of my time again, so I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up the uploading schedule of one chapter every week. It may become once in every two weeks instead - but of course I will let you know when (or if at all) that will happen!
> 
> Fanart:  
> [Are you wooing prince Loki?](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/166563862353/look-at-this-gorgeous-f%C7%ABruneyti-fanart-made-by)  
> [Sol'Laria - A POC Healer design and her dragon form!](https://sta.sh/020r3wksxhl0)
> 
> The commission I made:  
> [Hadn't I told you to stop doing that?](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/167873734463/hadnt-i-told-you-to-stop-doing-that)  
> [Edited version](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/post/167873846913/hadnt-i-told-you-to-stop-doing-that)


	69. LXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The song I recommend for in the background (on Spotify), please put it on loop!](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iw4TEtfVTu14zZRlQsgiN)  
>  Minor warning for blood and violence.  
> :

The bandits were everywhere around you, arrows nocked and blades sharp, and you were sure that there were more further back hiding in the shadows. You were outnumbered. 

“Why do you want her?” Thor's eyes stood dangerously sharp, fingers locked around the hilt of his still-sheathed sword.

The leader's eyebrows shot up. “Why? Well, why not? Very easy on the eyes, I bet she'd be great beneath the sh-” 

“Finish that sentence and it will be the last one you'll ever speak.” Loki lifted his dagger ever so slightly, his muscles tensing. 

But the man only chuckled. “Ohoho, is loverboy getting pissed because I wouldn't say no to fucking his girl's brains out? Understandable, understandable.” He winked at you and you could feel the part of Loki's magic that had returned swirl violently, but it still was nothing compared to what it had been. He realised it himself, too, and frustration filled his eyes. 

“But enough with the theatrics and the jokes; we have our orders and we will follow them through no matter what. So this can go in two ways: one, you hand her over and we'll leave you to jerk each other off in peace, or two, we take her from you with force. First one sounds more fun for everyone, doesn't it?” 

Follow through no matter what... Even if it cost them their lives? That could only mean that their lives were already at stake. Whoever had given them orders, they had power – and a lot of it, too. If you ended up being taken to them it was best if you had as much magic left as possible to have at least a chance at fighting them. Should you go with them without a fight so that no one would get hurt? No, no one would even allow you to do that – you wouldn't allow anyone else to do that, either, had they been in your place. Your mind raced to find the best way, to predict their moves, but you couldn't. There was too little time. 

“We will not hand her over.” Thor pulled his sword almost simultaneously with his men, the high-pitched scrapes of metal over metal making the enemy tighten their grip on their weapons. 

“Oh but that's where you're wrong, pal.” The man circled around Thor, slow, calculated, like a predator-

He turned around like a whirlwind and grabbed Stigr's arm, twisted it behind his back and held him so tight the bone was near breaking, causing the scout to cry out and drop his sword. As soon as all the other's made a move to attack the bandit leader he clicked his tongue. 

“You wouldn't want to hurt your own buddy, now, would you?” 

You missed whatever sign he might have given his men but without warning another one stormed forward and ripped Iver's bow from his hands, the arrow he released just a moment before ending up in a tree, before holding a dagger to his neck. 

Two men down in a matter of minutes. 

The leader threw Stigr to the circle of bandits, one quickly taking over his hold on the scout's arm. “Honestly, I'm not too disappointed with how it's going. I thought you'd put up more of a fight, especially you.” He pointed at Loki. 

A challenge. 

You quickly grabbed hold of your lover's sleeve before he could charge. “Don't listen to him, he is trying to make you act reckless.” 

The man chuckled. “Not only sexy, but smart as well! I can see why he chose you.” 

He was trying to distract you from his fellow bandits, who were slowly closing in on Thor's party; inching forward without a sound. 

“Oh, and what have we here? _Two_ lovely maidens? What a jackpot. This one will be for you, my friends.” 

His men sniggered, their eyes glinting, and Brant holding his arm out to shield his sister only made their smirks grow. Your heart ached at the sight of Dagny's wobbling legs, at her shaking arms as she gripped your dagger with both hands, eyes shooting from left to right to left. She was absolutely terrified. 

You felt Loki's magic beginning to swirl even more violently, and you gave another tug on his arm before hopping onto your toes and whispering into his ear. 

_”Keep your magic secret.”_

He frowned, but after seeing the pleading look in your eyes he gave a small nod. You had no idea if these men knew anything about magic and whether Loki and you possessed it. They did know about Loki's Jotun blood, however. Who were they, and where had they gotten their information? 

The man squinted his eyes, obviously not pleased with not having been able to hear what you had said. “What was that, sweetheart? Could you say it louder for the people in the back?” 

This was a fight you couldn't win; not with Loki's magic barely restored, not with your own only halfway back to normal, not now that there were too many who needed protecting. Dagny, Thomas, Bjarke, they were all at risk. With Stigr unarmed and Iver stressing over his bow your chances were too small – but you could protect them. If only you had time to think out a plan, if only your brain would work faster- 

“I _said_ , what did you just whisper into his ear?” The bandit's voice had taken on a dangerous tone and his men inched closer still. 

Thor's soldiers were slowly forced to step back, creating a protective circle around Dagny and the two Yllgardian healers. The golden-haired prince as well as his men seemed to realise, too, that they were at a great disadvantage, and that fighting would not increase their chances of escaping – or even improve their chances of surviving. Dagny was having a panic attack. Stigr's arm was still near its breaking point. Loki could not show his magic. You couldn't turn into a dragon without hurting those you wanted to protect and possibly yourself, too. 

So you made a decision. 

“That I want to make a bargain.” 

Loki tensed even more than the others but none spoke, and the bandit leader eyed them suspiciously. 

“Judging from loverboy's reaction I'd say that isn't what you whispered to him, but I'm too interested in what you have to say to really care. Spit it.” 

You swallowed, but your throat stayed dry; your hands trembling slightly though you hid it well. This could possibly be one of the worst ideas you had ever had. 

“I want you to take us, all of us, to your... client, employer - and I promise we will come willingly; but only if you harm none of us and you stay away from Dagny.” 

If the journey was long it may buy Loki enough time to regain his magic and to plan something that would not end up with you losing your lives. 

“All of you, hm?” His eyes raked over you and Loki, over Thor, his men, the two healers, and Dagny. “And why shouldn't I just kill them right now and save myself the trouble of having to feed them, keep an eye on them, move them?” 

“They all belong to the palace of Asgard; two of them princes, as you know. I bet the king would pay you lots of gold to get them all back – unharmed.” 

He tapped his finger against his chin as he faked thinking about it, before shaking his head. “Nah, not good enough. I have enough enemies as it is, and being hunted by the most powerful people in the nine realms isn't something I want now that my salvation is so close.” He nudged his chin towards you. “Is that all you have? Still no reason for me to keep your buddies alive.” He held up his hand and caught the axe one of his men threw to him, giving it a few experimental swings. 

Your heart sped up. Everyone was in danger, you had to do something, come up with something.  
It was you they wanted, wasn't it? Apparently you were worth so much they would risk their lives for it. You could use that – you could bargain _yourself_. 

You took in a deep, deep breath, gathering all your courage. If you had misunderstood his words, had jumped to the wrong conclusions again, then this could be the end of your plan. It could be the end of everything. So you exhaled slowly again- 

then snatched Loki's dagger from his hand. 

“If you don't then I will harm, possibly even kill myself, and you and your men will have failed your contractor and lose all your lives.” 

The bandits' eyes all widened and their grip on their weapons wavered for a moment, gazes switching between those they were supposed to watch and you, the one they were supposed to capture. Even the leader seemed taken aback by your sudden threat.  
You ignored how pained and fearful Loki's expression was, how anxious those of the others were. You could almost hear them think. How far were you willing to go? Was this all an act, or were you truly going to follow through? 

The man leaned back a bit and moved a few strands of greasy brown hair from his face. A seemingly casual move, paired with the confident smile he donned, but there was the slightest bit of tension in his posture. 

“Sorry sweetheart, but I can call your bluff from miles away. You wouldn't-” 

You held the dagger tight and raised it high, blade pointed down and ready.  
Turn off all emotions, turn off all worries. Your people were in danger, here and in Blacktree, and you would do what had to be done. 

And you swung your arms down. 

The man's eyes grew wide- “WAIT!”  
Loki shot forward - “STOP!” 

But it was too late. 

 

The stain began to grow, deep dark red seeping into the fabric of your shirt then dripping, dripping and dripping as you pulled the metal from your flesh and dropped the blade from shaking fingers. 

“My love, my love- what have you done-” Loki held an arm around your shoulder to keep you upright, his free hand pressing against your wound, but he was shaking, too. 

You cupped his cheek and brought his face to your lips only to whisper to him again. “Do not heal me but keep our magic secret, come up with a way to get us out. I am not planning on dying.” 

And you moved your gaze back to their leader, head dipping as it felt both heavy and light. No suppressing the pain this time. “Do not assume what I am-” a soft groan, ragged air spilling from your lungs, “what I am and what I am not capable of. Honour my terms, or I will harm myself at the next opportunity I get.” 

He shoved his hand into his hair and messed up his ponytail, his face pale. “That bitch is crazy, fucking crazy-” 

“Honour. My. Terms.” 

He shook his head, mumbled more curses and swearwords, but snapped his fingers for the others to lower their weapons. 

You had won. 

“Those two men and that woman,” you said as you turned and glanced at Dagny, Thomas, and Bjarke, who seemed equally shocked as the others, “they are healers. They know how to treat this wound. If you keep them from treating me I may not survive this.” Not even close to the truth, but the bandits did not need to know you had aimed the blade well. “They will need access to their own supplies and possibly those of your men.” 

“Whatever, whatever- just, fucking-” He turned to his men and whistled. “Take their weapons, bind their wrists, and lets get the fuck going.” 

And so you and all of your friends were stripped of blades and bows, then tied up – with you the only exception - and taken to the horses. Through the slightest touch of your magic you begged Egil to stay calm, to act kind; he was another card you had left to play, another secret that could eventually help you and the others escape. For now, everyone was safe. 

 

Until they would realise your bargain was weaker than you had made it seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr, for updates, song recs, asks, and more!](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord, where you can talk to me or the other Fǫruneyti readers!](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/user/fern-walk/playlist/2zQ3kWx0wfrCaM5eOiCLpN)
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> The chapters will now be uploaded every two weeks. So next week no update, but the Saturday after that ;3
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> There's still the possibility to speed up the schedule of In Her Loving Memory, and maybe even for Fǫruneyti. More info will be posted on the Fǫruneyti Tumblr and Discord!


	70. LXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazingly beautiful fanart! You guys keep surprising me and it makes me so incredibly happy. Some sketches were posted in the Discord as well and I loved those so much, too! Really, it's such an honour and I can't ever express my full gratitude. Thank you so, so much ♡  
> [Healer and The Berry Fight.](http://feelingwonderfultoday.tumblr.com/post/168145037734/this-amazingly-beautiful-art-was-made-by)
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> Warning for slight gore!

You kept your hand pressed firmly against your wound. You had healed the worst part, the tissue that had been damaged inside, but had left the wound open enough not to arouse suspicion - this way the only danger that was still left was the risk of getting an infection, and Thomas, Bjarke, and you yourself all knew how to treat that. You were in no way dying; only mildly inconvenienced.

But the bandits didn't know that. 

You wondered why they didn't, though. As bandits, perhaps even raiders, surely they must have seen their fair share of injuries? And their leader, despite his insanity, seemed rather intelligent. Did they leave the wounded to die, or did they have a healer somewhere in a hidden settlement? Was that where they were taking you? For the last two hours you had been going in a straight line, the pace rather quick, but as far as you could tell it was still in the general direction of Blacktree. If that were the case, then you needed to have a plan or two ready before the group would pass by the village – or, if they would pass _through_ it, then you needed more than just a few.  
Your head was already beginning to spin.

As if your body instinctively knew what to do your eyes found Loki a few horses to the right, and some of the tension left your shoulders. He was okay. Worried, frustrated, and tied up, yes, but okay. A relieved little smile settled on your lips.  
You had been able to buy everyone some time, had been able to prevent them from getting hurt; and going by the determination in everyones gazes you and your lover weren't the only ones trying to come up with a plan. There was no need to worry too much.  
Slowly the chaos inside your mind quietened, and you could focus on other things once more. 

You needed to find out why they - or whoever his contractor was - wanted you, specifically. Did they know about your ability? Did they want to force you to turn, only to kill you and sell every part of your mutilated and dismembered corpse? A shiver ran down your back. How would they force you to turn, anyway? Ah, no, better not let your mind dwell on that, either.  
But what if they did not know? What if your secret was still very much a secret? It wasn't very likely, of course, as you couldn't find anything else that would increase your worth so massively; but there was still a small chance that this wasn't because of your dragon blood. Your reputation, then? Rumours spread like wildfire and so you wouldn't be surprised if more people knew about Dagny being healed – her neighbours saw her leave, after all, and would no doubt start gossiping. Still, you couldn't quite imagine someone paying so much money just to have you captured for your healing magic, nor could you imagine someone threatening the lives of an entire group of bandits for it. 

Why bandits, anyway? Why not recruit real soldiers, or hire a bunch of well-trained mercenaries? The contractor must have a lot of money and power to threaten all their lives, so surely they could afford something better than a bunch of scruffy and insubordinate criminals.

And then there was the fact that it were the same bandits that had attacked the party when you had left Blacktree. No, even before that, you realised - they were the ones that had wounded Loki before Thor and his men came bursting into the shop during that storm, asking for your help as they carried the severely injured prince inside. They were ones that had waited in the woods surrounding the village, the ones because of whom you had had to pick berries and paint Thor's white steed black. The ones whose arrows had killed Thor's men before they could make it to your village, whose poison had taken Hallr's life. 

The ones that had allowed you to meet Loki, and to fall in love with him.

Your emotions twisted inside your stomach. You hated these men. You hated every single one of them, hated what they had done, what they had _tried_ to do. And yet, without their existence and without their attempts to take Loki's life, you would never have met the man you now loved so deeply. Was that something to be thankful for? Was that enough to negate the boiling hate you felt towards them, or the rage you had to suppress almost violently before it would burst out and ruin the bargain you had set? 

Focus, focus. You could think about this later. 

The same men, but a different contractor – or perhaps the same? If there was one, then what made them change their mind and lose interest in having Loki assassinated? And the task hadn't been completed, so it was strange that they would hire the same bandits that failed them. You had a gut feeling that this was a second contractor, who had little or maybe even nothing to do with the first. But maybe that was a good thing!  
The first must have been someone who knew of Loki's Jotun blood and may have wanted him dead for that particular reason; someone who had let disposable, lawless people take care of it to keep the whole ordeal quiet. Perhaps they had told the bandits about Loki's heritage while talking about the contract, or perhaps it had slipped from their lungs before they had been able to stop it.  
But the second one could be someone who had no knowledge of anyone but you. Of course this would not matter if you ended up fighting the bandits, since they could not simply forget that important bit of information they had gotten, but if you ended up fighting the contractor themselves then it could definitely work in your favour. 

You only hoped the bandits didn't know of your magic, or that of your lover. 

 

 

At the end of the evening the party finally stopped, and saying you were exhausted was an understatement. The thinking, the blood loss, the slight but persistent pain; it had drained you both mentally and physically. So when the man with whom you had been forced to ride offered to help you off the horse you couldn't even decline his hand, nor could you push him away when he kept you from falling to the ground. You were longing to get some sleep.  
It wasn't too much of a problem yet, this exhaustion, but you would need to regain your energy before whichever plan was set into motion. So you let the man help you walk over to the others, who had been seated – still tied up – in a circle between some trees; let him help you sink through your knees so you could rest your back against an oak and your side against your still-worried lover. He was gentle, strangely enough. Maybe he was just honouring their contract of 'not harming a hair on your head', but, despite their initial introduction and threats, you had a feeling that these bandits had more morals and values than the Yllgardian soldiers would ever have. 

“Are you all right?” 

You leaned your head against Loki's shoulder; both for comfort and the opportunity to whisper into his ear. 

“I'm fine. I believe we are still going in the direction of Blacktree. Do you think there's a settlement nearby or do they not know the villagers will recognise me and possibly help us escape?”

He rested his cheek against your crown and spoke back in hushed tones. “I am unsure. It may be possible that they got information about you from their employer, but if that is true we still cannot be certain how much they know.” 

“Can't we find out somehow? Ask the right questions at the right time?” 

He thought about it for a moment, breathing steady and gaze unfocused. 

“That may be difficult.” 

A shared silence followed. Any question you asked the bandits could give something away or lead to suspicions, and there was no saying whether they would even answer truthfully or not. Perhaps they would give things away without noticing it – like when the leader had revealed his knowledge of Loki's father simply by calling the prince a mocking nickname.  
You shifted your eyes to beyond the group of familiar men sitting around you and studied the pack of criminals; the ones that stood guard and those who had made themselves comfortable behind them. Despite your promise that everyone would come willingly they still kept a close eye on you – all of them did. You could see them watch you from the corner of their eyes. 

“It is one more day before we pass through or by my village. Will your magic be of any help by then?” 

“Not much; it may merely provide some distraction or perhaps heal a couple of wounds should we manage to escape.” 

You hummed softly. “Mine is halfway back but it won't be nearly enough to take everyone out, and since we're not out in the open...” You let your sentence trail off and fade. You hadn't told him yet. You hadn't told him the last, massive trick you had up your sleeve should everything go to Hel. 

Was now the right time to tell him? 

It may be better if he knew before he found out himself, but what if it weakened his trust in you? You sure had taken your sweet time telling him. Why not sooner? Did you not trust him enough? Were there more secrets you kept from him? You could see all those unspoken questions in the eyes of the Loki inside your head, his expression pained and his muscles tense. Would it break the bond the two of you had built? You couldn't have that – not now, out of all times. You needed his support, his smile, his shoulder to yours as the two of you sat with your backs against a tree while surrounded by enemies. You couldn't lose him. Not here; not like this. 

Luckily Loki hadn't noticed your near slip-up. “Once we break our part of the bargain they will have no difficulty breaking theirs. Dagny and the others will be at risk.” 

“No killing, then, not until there is no other option left.” You sighed. With Thor and his men unarmed there wasn't a great chance of surviving a coup, anyway. “Do you... Do you think they will still honour the bargain when they deliver me to their contractor?” 

Images of your friends being stabbed, their throats being slit, blood and guts spilling at the bandits' hands – it made your stomach twist dangerously. 

“I will not let it get that far.” 

The resolve in his voice shooed the rising nausea away, his words reassuring. Though perhaps... 

“But what if we should?” You didn't need to look at him to know he was frowning. “The moment we get there – if we kill the contractor before they make a move, then the bandits have no reason to threaten us any longer, right?” 

“I do not think they will simply let us go after we murdered their source of income.” 

“But they are afraid - what if whoever is behind this threatened to kill all the bandits if they did not obey? What if they did not have a choice? If we take the life of the person that holds such power over them and we promise not to pursue the bandits for what they have done, won't they leave us alone?”

“But what if you're wrong?” His voice was even softer, less thoughtful and more worried. “What if they were promised riches instead of death? What if they were promised something they could not refuse? Their leader spoke of their 'salvation'. What if you are wrong, and the moment we kill their employer they will turn against us? As long as our hands are bound and our weapons are gone we cannot fight back.” 

And once again he was right. The risk was too great, the gamble not worth it. 

“But surely I must have some kind of influence? He or she wants me unharmed, wants me safe. If I can convince their employer to let all of you live, in turn for going with them without struggling-” 

“I will _not_ let someone take you. I will not watch and do nothing while you are given to some stranger-” 

“What else can we do? If I go with them, keep myself alive until you have regained your magic, you can come and pick me up; you can teleport me-” 

“And risk losing you in the weeks before that is even possible? Have you gone mad?” 

You shushed him before his voice could gain any more volume, some of the guards already eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 

“If there's no other option then what can we do? If it keeps everyone alive...” Though it all depended on whether the contractor and the bandits would let Thor and his men go. If not, then this plan was doomed to fail as well. 

The future seemed bleak. 

“Maybe the road to their employer will be long enough for me to regain my magic.” 

But you knew he did not count on it, and neither did you. It would still take a little bit over three weeks for it to be fully back, according to his own predictions; and even if he could already teleport while it had only been restored halfway he would still need one and a half week to get to that point. There was no way the trip would take that long. 

Your nose began to itch and your throat clenched tightly shut. You felt helpless, useless, weak. Your village needed help and yet here you were, not even able to escape from a bunch of criminals, not even able to aid your friends. Why couldn't you just think? Why weren't you smart enough to come up with an answer? Why weren't you more capable than this?

Loki tilted his head and pressed his lips to your crown. Oh how you wished he could hold you, could wrap his arms around your body and shield you from the turmoil inside your heart. 

“We will find a way out of this. Rest for now; you are tired and wounded and in no state to put so much strain on your mind. I will think more on this matter and discuss it with the others.” 

It was true. So you fought against the tension in your muscles, the chaos inside your brain. 

You would do better in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr, for updates, song recs, asks, and more!](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord, where you can talk to me or the other Fǫruneyti readers!](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/user/fern-walk/playlist/2zQ3kWx0wfrCaM5eOiCLpN)
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> This was the last chapter I had in stock. I hope I'll be able to write another one before the next uploading date in two weeks, but otherwise I may take a Christmas break to write ahead again. I'll let you guys know through the blog and the discord!  
> Thank you so much for your patience and your sweet comments. I don't know if I had gotten this far without it all, and I really am so very grateful. 
> 
> A few other updates:  
> -You may have noticed it already, but chapter 37 and 38 have been written from [Loki's point of view](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12941307), and it's canon to the story!
> 
> -A new multific has been commissioned, in which the Avengers (and Loki) need to survive in a place full of dinosaurs! It's a Loki x Reader, and you don't need to know the game it's based on to be able to read the story. Chapter 2 is coming soon!
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> -There's more commissioned work coming, some Fǫruneyti based! 
> 
> -I love all of you!
> 
> -If I'm not able to upload in two weeks: Merry Christmas and a happy new year!!


	71. LXXI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back from the Hiatus! I am a bit struggling with chapter 72, as I need it to be perfect, but I hope to get the 'one chapter every two weeks' schedule going again ^^  
> Thank you all for your patience!

A pair of cool lips against your forehead. 

“Wake up, my love.” 

Your consciousness found the way back to reality and your crusted eyes slowly opened. “Hm?” 

“It looks like we will be leaving soon.” 

You took in a deep breath and moved yourself upright with one hand, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the other. Your entire body felt stiff from the night laying in a semi-awkward position, and after the luxury of the inns and even the Yllgardian tents it was hard to get used to a night outside again.  
You noticed the movements, then: a few men getting the horses ready, two taking some roasted birds off a spit that hung above a dying fire, and the others all packing whatever they had laying around. It seemed that Loki was right. 

“I haven't dreamt up a plan.” 

Loki smiled softly. “I didn't expect you to.” He moved his gaze to the others. “But we have come to some sort of solution to our situation.” 

They nodded, and Thomas spoke up – quietly so. “Tell one of the bandit soldiers that you need a salve for your wound but that you cannot walk, and instead propose for me or Bjarke to get it for you. We will find ourselves a weapon instead. Prince Loki will burn the rope off of everyone's wrists and they will get ready to overpower the guards and to disarm them, but they will need momentum. Loki mentioned that your affinity with animals can provide us with a distraction to start it all?” 

It took you a few seconds longer than usual to process the plan but once it began to make sense in your waking brain you nodded in return. Yes, Egil might help out if you urged him to. 

“All right, my sign will be dropping something like a bottle or-”

“ _What_ are we doing here?” 

Fear and dread crashed though your stomach as the Bandit Leader prowled closer, casually swinging his axe around.

“A conspiracy? Rebellion? Planning a coupe?” He spoke loud enough for all to hear, a big grin on his face. “That's not very nice of you, after how all of you promised to come along like well-behaved boys. Oh, and girls.” He gave you and Dagny a cheeky wink that sent visible shivers down the woman's spine. “Well, we can't have this continuing now, can we? No, I think we should perhaps put down some consequences.” The enjoyment in his gaze turned cold and he snapped the fingers of his free hand. One man came walking over, carrying a beautiful bow- 

Iver's bow.

Your eyes shot to the archer, who'd begun to softly chant strings and strings of 'no no no', tears already forming in his waterline, but you quickly turned your pleading gaze back again. “Please, don't-” 

“Don't? Don't what? I'm still being patient here with you, you know. I accepted your offer to keep everyone alive, to take them along; but you must understand that I won't let you stand up against me. Technically you wanted to break the deal we made, so it is very well in my liberty to break it as well! So yeah, you probably should have thought twice about concocting your little plans. But! I'm a merciful man, and I'm sparing your lives.” He nodded for his colleague to lay the confiscated weapon down in front of him, paying no attention to Iver's increasing volume. 

“All right then. Everyone with me? Eyes here people; only when you see the consequences will you learn from them! One -” He swung the axe but slowed it before it hit its target, “Two -” another well-aimed practice swing, and he shot a grin towards the archer - 

“Three!” 

Iver let out a choked cry when the metal struck the wooden grip, water streaming down his reddening face, and with every loud chop and crunch he winced and sobbed.  
It took the man at least four before the axe finally cleaved through. 

He wiggled the blade from the earth and looked at his work with an appreciating pout, at how the wooden limbs lay separated with the string loose between them, then turned to the group of tied-up soldiers at his feet. 

“I hope the message is clear. And I don't want any magic tricks, either! I know one of you made that green fire, and I won't give a second warning. One weirdly coloured flame and you will find yourself in the same situation as that man's dear toy.” A mocking glance of sympathy at the crying Iver. “So behave yourselves! It won't be much longer, anyway.” 

And off he strode, axe over his shoulder and a satisfied smile on that awful face. 

 

You, Dagny, Loki, Thor, the two healers and the royal soldiers were all helped up and onto a horse each, and the destroyed bow was left behind as you rode away.  
Your heart still ached for Iver, for the pain he must be feeling at losing the only thing he had had left of his mother, but the worry about everyone's fate easily overpowered it. Not much longer, he had said. Perhaps that was exactly how much time everyone had left to live. 

You wanted to tell yourself not to think about it, not to focus on a future that was simply impossible to predict, but how could you not? How could you not worry about losing it all?

Movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention and you shifted your gaze to the left, only to see the Leader steering his horse closer to the side of the one you sat on. It was obvious he came to talk to you, or nag you or whatever he wanted, but it may be your chance to find out some information, too.  
You waited for him to speak first, and he had no trouble doing so. 

“So what do you see in a guy like him, eh? Is it for the riches? The status?” 

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. Play along, play along. “Why, are you jealous?” 

“Perhaps a bit, yes! I mean I was kinda hired to kill him, you know? And the stories I heard about him... wow. I'd think that would scare off any maiden, fair or not.” He clicked his tongue before his lips morphed into a curious grin. “Unless you like to seek out a bit of danger.”

By the Gods, this man was insufferable; and apparently he didn't realise that you wouldn't quite appreciate someone insulting your lover behind his back. You kept your smile light and polite, though. 

“It appears to be quite the other way around; it likes to seek out me. But you are the bandit here, surely you must encounter lots of dangerous situations.” 

“Aw sweetheart don't use such a negative term! Consider us... Loyal servants for hire.” 

Mercenaries, raiders, murderers. You had seen what they could do, what they could cause. A word like 'servant' would never fit their role. 

“But yes, we do indeed often find ourselves in sticky situations. Not all... _missions_ go as planned, and it is up to us to fix it before it all goes to shit. Because that would be even worse. And I'm not even talking about the contractors! Oh no.” 

You frowned as if you were even the slightest bit interested in his stories. “Oh? Then who?”

“You should never piss off your mum. I swear it, if she gets word of something that went wrong on your watch then the penalties are not light. Mothers are a gift, better hold their advice close to your heart and their hands far from your face!” He snickered.

You hadn't thought he would care about his mother; or anyone else besides himself for that matter. Did this mean that they did indeed have a settlement somewhere? And the fact that she beat him... Was he trying to trick you into feeling guilty for him?

“Ah I can almost hear you thinking: why would a guy like him – me – care about his mum? He's just a scruffy criminal, isn't he?” He smiled, but it seemed less wicked, less crude. “But there's a reason for everything we do, sweetheart. I'd hate handing you over to that guy but we gotta do what we gotta do, you know? We gotta stay alive somehow.” 

That guy – a man, then. But who?

“So you accept money from a stranger who wants you to kidnap a woman.” 

Hurt flashed through his eyes for only a fraction of a second. “Look, we have certain morals and values, all right? That loverboy of yours has such a reputation that at least half of this realm wants him dead, who knows how many realms more; and to have him sitting on a throne would have been even worse than Princess Pretty over there. We were serving Asgard, in a way – and if that's how we can earn money to buy ourselves food and materials, then that should be regarded as a double win, right?” 

You fought the urge to slap him across his face and tell him how Loki would make a better king than most of the souls wandering the universe, and instead pressed your lips tightly together. It didn't go unnoticed. 

“We don't raid villages, if that's what you want to hear.” 

This caught your attention. 

“So we need the money to trade with them, to pay them – fairly – for whatever our families need up there. We don't steal. We work.” 

Then they couldn't have been the same ones who had raided your village in the past. Still, that didn't excuse them for all the things they had put everyone through - so many people could have died with the amount of poisoned arrows they shot, so many things could have gone wrong. Who knew how many lives they had already taken. 

“And where are your morals and values when you hand me over to your contractor?” 

He hummed. “Well, see, we needed to promise him not to hurt you, so we thought he wouldn't hurt you either-”

You shot him a look that made him fall silent, his smile faltering, and he cleared his throat. 

“All right, I have to admit we care not what happens to you. Don't take it personally, sweetheart; your sacrifice is what will finally get us from this never-ending cycle. We'll be able to stop being soldiers for hire and we'll be able to start a new life – all of us!” 

“But how? How much money has he promised you? How much money does it take for you to set aside those morals you claim to have?” 

The fear didn't sound through in your voice and you were grateful for it. You'd tried to suppress it, to keep it from bursting through and tainting every syllable that slipped past your lips, but it was becoming harder and harder with every long and straining second. Who would you be handed to? What did they want from you? What would they do to you? Why -

“Well it wasn't exactly money he promised. Perhaps in some way, but it's the certainty that we need. We aren't the only ones out there, you know, and the others are way less elegant when it comes to getting what they want. We are a target for raiders and bandits just as much as everyone else.” 

You knew he was dancing around something, hiding something he did not want you to know. Perhaps, if he was trying to keep this information from you, then he'd be more willing to give other things away. 

“So... What will happen when we get there, then? To the others, I mean. They were not part of the deal. Will you let them live?” You didn't hide the plea from your gaze. He smiled, but his lips slanted just far enough for you to see that he did not like the answer, either. 

“If our contractor tells us to kill them, then that's what we will do. Sorry, sweetheart.” 

You couldn't believe it. Fear turned to anger, worry to hate. “How many sacrifices are you willing to make? How much blood do you need on your hands before you'll be satisfied?” 

“As many as it takes,” he snapped back. “Look, I care about my people, okay?-” 

“So do I. And I swear to the Gods that if any harm comes to them, I will kill you. I will kill you and all your men.” 

You could feel it swirl in the marrow of your bones. You had never killed before, had never taken a life, but you wouldn't just sit and watch as your friends got murdered. 

He didn't even blink, however. “You can try, but you won't succeed. Anyway, we're here; so behave just a little longer and perhaps we won't even have to kill them at all.”

Your head snapped back, heart beginning to speed up as the murderous intent made way for anxiety and fear again, and the last trees parted to make way for the vale in which Blacktree stood. 

 

Or, rather:

 

where it should have stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fǫruneyti on Tumblr, for updates, song recs, asks, and more!](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Discord, where you can talk to me or the other Fǫruneyti readers!](https://discord.gg/nA49xQN)   
>  [Fǫruneyti on Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/user/fern-walk/playlist/2zQ3kWx0wfrCaM5eOiCLpN)


	72. LXXII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Beth's Theme on repeat.
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> 
> Youtube link:  
> https://youtu.be/WmXuQxECqrs

There was little left to recognise. Carcasses of houses and homes were only afterimages of something that had been there in the past; skeletons of charred beams, stone foundations, rubble and ashes. 

The smell of burnt wood, of burnt _flesh_.

Bodies lay covered by fallen soot, no face left to remember, no last goodbye to be said as their half-molten limbs lay in unnatural positions and their souls could no longer to be saved.  
There was no smoke. There was no heat. 

Your heart had stopped beating. 

This... No, no this was not real. It couldn't be. This was a nightmare, a figment of your imagination, something horrible that only existed in your worried mind. The horses moved down into the vale and you didn't know if it was the air growing thicker or your throat clenching shut. Perhaps your lungs were refusing to breathe. This wasn't... No. You needed to wake up, to get away, to get out - _please._  
Bile tainted the back of your throat and the world was spinning, spinning; you felt nonexistent fire burn your skin and saw invisible smoke blur your vision, felt it choke you with every strained breath.

And amongst it all, amongst the horror and the pain and the flames long since gone, amongst the torture and the anxiety and the fear, amongst the death and despair and the memory of what had once been your home; 

Amongst it all, stood a man. 

_”Ah, you've arrived! You do not know how happy I am to see you.”_

It was _him_ , it was him from the marketplace and he was in your head he was in your head he needed to get out _get out get out **get out**_ -

You healed your wound in a flash of anxiety and tried to swing yourself off the horse but the bandit seated behind you stopped you, kept you locked into a prison of arms and you wanted to scream to shout to cry and to hit him but you couldn't do it, you couldn't do anything. Anything.

Anything at all. 

You couldn't save them, the ones you had sworn to protect; couldn't turn back time to stop this- to just stop this. You couldn't bring back the dead and couldn't take away how they must have suffered. No. You had been too late, had left everyone to their own devices. You had failed them. You had _murdered_ them. This was your fault. 

A choked cry pushed past the lump in your throat, and the tears came at last. 

Everyone, everyone... Your home, your patients, your friends, your parents; Medhea, Illasias, Audun.  
Gone.  
Your eyes frantically searched for the shop, for whatever remained of it, while you begged yourself not to; don't look, don't look, it won't be real if you just don't look. But you couldn't close your eyes.  
There was nothing left but broken glass and soot.

The group of soldiers and criminals came to a halt and everyone got off their horses, clouds of ash and dust rising as their feet hit the ground, and the bandits pushed their hostages out in front of them. You didn't want to get closer to that man, didn't want to step into that terrifying aura of him, feel the fear explode like it had when you had first seen him. No, let go, let go, you didn't want to get closer, please – but the Leader kept a firm hold on your arm and tried to pull you along with him. _No, please._ Your strength seemed to return and you planted your feet firmly onto the ground, ripping your arm from his grip and stepping away from him, but two of his men rushed to close you in and you couldn't fight them off, couldn't see through the tears. They easily brought you to your knees. 

The stranger stepped forward. 

“Please, look up.”

You didn't want to, refused to, your heart beating too fast. 

“After all this time, did you not want to meet me? I knew you ran from me... Why was that?”

Why had you ran from him? You didn't know, it was just – it had been a gut feeling, a survival instinct. Every fibre of your being had screamed to get away from him that day, and yet here you sat: only a few steps away from him, completely at his mercy; knees tainted by the disintegrated bodies of your youth. Their remains filled your lungs, coated your skin. Your stomach twisted and you gagged, but nothing came out. Everyone was dead. Everyone was dead because of _you_. 

“At least tell me your name.”

No...

No, this was not only your fault. This man, this stranger – he and his hired criminals – they were responsible for the destruction. Without them everyone might still have been alive, you might still have seen them, spoken to them, fought alongside them. You may still have laughed with them, cried with them, danced with them. And now that future was gone. 

Everything was gone. 

“You caused this.” 

The water on your cheeks began to dry and left behind an itch that you barely registered, your sadness beginning to morph, to change to something dangerous. Your shoulders slowly ceased to tremble. 

“You hired men to kill my family, to destroy my village.” 

“Well, you're not completely right about that. They had no hand in it. This,” from the movements of his feet you could tell he was turning to show the wasteland around him, “this was all me.” 

You lifted your head to meet his gaze –  
and your eyes grew wide. No, no; this couldn't be. This was no coincidence. 

Copper flakes adorned the green.

“Who are you?” 

He smiled warmly. “I'm here to take you with me, to show you a better life. We can create a world where we are no longer hunted and oppressed!” 

No. No no no. Please don't let it be true, please. Your fingernails sunk into your arms as you held yourself, the vibrant red dripping from the pierced skin but you didn't feel the pain. 

“ _No._ ” 

He tilted his head, still that saccharine sweet smile on his lips. “Why not? You have nowhere left to go, right? This village was only holding you back! Imagine the great things we can accomplish, the empire we can build with our strength alone. We can return the dragons to this realm!” 

You gagged again, your guts twisting like poison had found its way into your system. Your secret was out. Your secret was out and it wasn't you who had told them. You glanced over your shoulders at the others, and saw their confusion, their inability to place the information. 

“Oh, your friends didn't know?” He turned his attention to the bandit leader and made a nondescript gesture with his hand. “Let them go, there's no need to keep them bound.” 

Their ropes were cut and Loki rushed to your side, giving the men who held your shoulders down a look so vile they stepped away immediately. He helped you up, supported you, scanned you with worried eyes but you didn't meet them. 

It made sense now. The certainty the bandits wanted, their need to complete this mission more than any before. He had offered them protection, had offered them a place in his new empire where they would no longer need to live off of killing and abducting; he had promised their families a safe existence for the rest of their lives and the lives of any new generations yet to come. It was all they had ever wished for, and all they needed to do for it was to deliver some girl to their contractor. Not even they could have known the destruction it would cause. 

“Dismiss your men.” 

The Stranger blinked. “Who, the mercenaries?”

“You got what you wanted, they brought me here. Send them away.” 

“Ho now, I can't just tell them to go without following up on my promise. I'm a man of my word-”

“So am I, and I have sworn to kill every single one of them should they harm my friends. Send. Them. Away.” 

He sighed, but complied.  
Thor's men quickly found their weapons and possessions, their horses back at their sides, their lives safe. You had to keep them safe. Even if it wouldn't bring back those you had already lost, they were all you had left to live for.  
Loki brushed a strand of hair from your forehead and finally you met his gaze, but there was no confusion in them. 

“So it is true, then.” His smile was gentle. 

He... Had he known? 

“You knew?” 

“I had my suspicions.” His smile grew even softer as he saw your eyes widen.

“Since when?” 

“A few days, since our conversations about the origin of dragons.” His expression fell a bit and guilt crept into the blues and greens. “I... Some of the things I said - ”

“No, no it's fine, I should have told you sooner.” He hadn't left you, didn't hate you for what you were, and fresh tears began to stream from your waterlines. “I'm sorry for keeping it from you, just thought-” an ugly sob. “I thought you may think differently of me.” _That you may leave me, abandon me, cease to care for me._

He shushed you and softly pulled you into his embrace, kept your head against his chest as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Nothing could ever change my opinion of you, my love.”

You couldn't respond as your clenching throat didn't allow it. Sooner, sooner – you should have told him sooner and all of this may have been prevented. Your fingers dug in the leather of his armour, your entire body shaking. He was here. He was here and he still supported you, he would continue to support you, to care for you. 

“Is... is this true?” 

The two of you turned back to the Stranger. 

“Have you chosen him as your mate?” 

“Mate?” Loki answered for you. 

“Oh you don't know?” The stranger smiled, but it was no longer hopeful; and he shifted his gaze to you. “Dragons mate for life.” 

You couldn't think, couldn't understand- 

“Though I wonder how pure your blood is, and if it has an impact on those kinds of things.” His smile fell entirely, now. “I hope not. I hoped that... well, that you could love _me_. But I see I was too late.” 

You pushed yourself away from Loki and clenched your hands into fists. “I-I-I am not a _beast_!” More tears, endlessly. “I am not some kind of monster who 'mates' or – or – whatever! I am not some kind of bird whose cage you must destroy before you can give it new one! _You killed them_ -” 

You lay a hand over your mouth to smother the pained cry. Breathe in, Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. But with every breath you took you inhaled more and more of the people you had once known and your body revolted against it. You were drowning. 

“How could you even... _How?_ How could you do this?” 

“I did it for you, my beloved-” 

“I am _not_ your beloved! I Will never love you. _Never_.” 

Loki lay his hand on your shoulder to soothe you but you could feel his rage, could feel his magic rush so fast you wondered how anyone had managed to keep standing. Perhaps only Gifted ones could feel it. And yet, despite his fury, his voice was icy calm when he spoke. 

“You are a dragon as well.” 

The stranger nodded. “I'm Daene, Last of the Dragons. Well, together with her, of course. She is our only hope for return.” He glanced at you. “But I guess you are not willing to give her up for our cause.” 

“ ** _Never_**.” 

“Yeah... That's what I thought.” He sighed. “I suppose there is no other way, then.”

He set a step back, and another, and something in his eyes seemed to change. 

“I'll just have to kill you, too.” 

And in the blink of an eye gravity seemed to shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter, and I don't think I will ever be. I'm sorry for the long wait, too. I hope it was worth it ;-;


	73. LXXIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood, violence, and gore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist! You can listen on shuffle or in order, it doesn't really matter!](https://open.spotify.com/user/1176212679/playlist/4MipplgRzBOmIERPT40l7N?si=w8yD_gnRS8acfNx9yf068w)
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> If you don't have spotify, these are the songs mentioned:  
> United we stand, Divided we fall - Thomas Bergersen  
> Sons of War - Thomas Bergersen  
> Kalki - E.S Posthumus  
> Fire Mountain - Two Steps From Hell

“No!” 

You shot forward and pushed Loki back; because where first had stood a ginger haired man, eyes green and copper-ridden, now fell the shadow of the massive brown-scaled dragon. 

“Step back, protect the others!” 

“I will not let him take you!” 

You kept your arm out, shielded him with your body. “Neither will I. Spare your energy and keep the others safe and out of my way, I will handle this.” 

You brushed the back of your free hand across your itching face. You needed your vision to focus, your heart to turn to stone; willed all your sorrow to morph into rage. 

_”I do not want to hurt you.”_

“Then don't,” you replied to him out loud, “but I do not share the same sentiment.” 

One last glance over your shoulder, one last apology as you met Loki's eyes. “Go.” 

And he did. He hurried over to the others and got them to take their distance, moved them from Blacktree's ashes towards the woods and left you with enough room to change. So you did.

A blink of an eye, a turn in the breeze, and you were different. 

You didn't dare look at the others but focused your vision on the dragon in front of you, copper flakes glinting throughout the rich earthen tones like the gold in your black – and only now did you realise the difference in size between your bodies. The collar of spikes and membrane fanned out around your neck and you hissed at him, head close to the ground and claws sinking into the soot-covered soil, muscles tense and ready to strike. 

_”Just come with me. Leave this life behind and start a new one with me.”_ He stood without moving, gaze locked with yours. A last chance.

 _Never_ , you wanted to spit at him again, but you didn't know how. You couldn't communicate like him. So you bared your teeth, growled like a beast. If a monster was what he wanted, then that was what he was going to get. 

Like a snake you shot forward and set your teeth in his long neck. He roared as scales crunched and split under the force and blood ran down your throat, flooding your senses with that metallic smell you had become so familiar with throughout your life. No matter how much he shook and twisted his neck you didn't let go-  
With a sudden pull he ripped himself free and roared again, wings flaring out in rage as he surged forward and knocked you to the ground. Clouds of grey and black exploded around you as your landing made the earth tremble. He was too strong, too big – you would never win this fight with strength alone; but rage washed away all coherent thought as his head turned back into the direction of the people you cared for. You pushed yourself up right in less than a second and jumped onto him, sinking your teeth and nails in his neck and shoulders while your hind claws ripped through the membrane of his folded wings. With another deafening roar he reared upwards and threw you off, his attention back to you as you snapped at his tail. 

Good. 

He turned around. The shifting of his muscles caused the copper to glimmer and glint in the diluted sunlight, distracting your eyes for just a second too long - with a powerful jump he knocked you over again and pain shot through your shoulder as he bit down. You could feel his sharp teeth disappear into your flesh. A worried shout of your lover was enough for you to be able to block out the pain however and you pierced the more vulnerable hide of his stomach, nails leaving deep cuts in the softer flesh as you clawed yourself free and forced him to let go. 

The battlefield was already covered in blood. 

You backed up, head low and tail sweeping from side to side. Your landing had hurt the wing that you could never fully fold against your side but you couldn't show him, couldn't let him know your weaknesses. You weren't going to win at this rate.  
One quick glance to the side told you that the others were safe between the trees, all watching with eyes wide and fear on their faces. You needed to protect them, and rage was not going to help you with that. 

Think, think. 

You dodged as he shot forward again, his mouth snapping shut just beside your throat. He no longer seemed hesitant to hurt you. You circled him as he circled you, watching carefully, gazes locked to predict the other's movements. An idea rose and with a quick reach of your magic you felt around you. It confirmed your suspicions: 

he didn't possess any.

All you got from him was a weird kind of hum that you assigned to him being in his dragon form, no wisps and waves like you and Loki had, and it truly didn't seem like he knew about your magic either. Maybe it was not a dragon thing after all? No time to think about that, _focus_. You could use this to your advantage.

_“If I cannot have you, no one can. I will not let our bloodline be muddled. The honour of the dragons shall remain untouched as we go extinct.”_

You hissed at him again. He called this honour? The killing of innocents to win over the heart of a woman who already loved someone else, and then killing her when she rejected him? There was no honour in being a dragon, none at all.  
You were pulled from your thoughts however when he opened his maw wide and the back of his throat began to glow white hot, and you were only just in time to jump aside before the column of fire would engulf you.

All right, that was another inconvenience. 

No matter how much you had tried, no matter how often or how long you had practiced, you had never been able to breathe fire. After a while you had just assumed it was just a myth, that dragon's couldn't even do that in the first place; but knowing it was yet another defect of your second form added another frustration to the mix. If you had to be a dragon, then why could you not be a perfectly functioning one? It certainly would have helped you out right now-

He knocked you to the ground again but you were able to use his own speed to swing him off before he could do any damage. The ashes shooting up began to sting your eyes and you knew you couldn't fight him on the ground any longer.

The only option was to go up. 

With a few powerful sweeps of your tail you sent more clouds rising, hiding you from view; but fire breached through and so you had no choice but to turn around and run, spreading your wings and beating them to lift yourself off the ground. Quick, quick, or he would pull you back down again and break your limbs or tear out your throat.  
You ignored how your wing protested and sent bolts of pain up your nerves. Blood still trickled from the wounds his teeth had left in your shoulder but you managed to get off the ground and rise, higher and higher, until fresh air filled your lungs. Despite the growing clouds the sun was another disadvantage: the night would have been a perfect cover for your black body, the golden lines and flakes like stars, but now you were out in the open and easier to spot than anything else. Hopefully your smaller built would allow for more speed and agility- 

Fire enveloped you, licked at your scales, singed the vulnerable flesh below, and you cried out as your head snapped into the direction it had come for. Daene arose from the cover of the ashen haze, mouth wide open and throat glowing in preparation of another attack. Your magic was not yet fully back and you couldn't just use it all in a futile attempt to take him out, so you needed to be smarter – needed to use it strategically. Dodging his attack by swerving to the right you circled him and sank your claws into his back. Both you and him had to beat your wings frantically to keep yourselves from losing height, occasionally hitting each other with such force you could feel your bones rattle. You ripped at his back but the scales were tough, closely linked and hard like armour; your claws only left scratches and shallow dents. Even though he could not attack you this way – he would burn himself if he turned his neck and breathed fire in your direction – neither could you attack him. 

Or so it seemed, at least. 

You bit down in the back of his neck as you kept scratching, teeth not doing too much damage either, and he laughed inside your mind. 

_“You think you can win this from me? You think I haven't noticed how you are unable to breathe fire? You lack strength, you lack experience. You are neither Asgardian nor dragon. You belong nowhere.”_

You couldn't let him get to you, couldn't let his words sting. Smart, trying to tame your determination with a verbal assault – though he was not smart enough to figure out what you were doing: with your magic you pulled bodily energy from his being, slowly but surely, while you acted like you were just trying to stay out of his line of fire. He twisted around in the air but you didn't let go. Physical contact was the most efficient way of draining him, the further your magic had to reach the more energy would go lost- 

he folded his wings back against his flanks-

You couldn't keep him in the air and the two of you began falling, began surging towards the ground and you had no option but to let go and jump off – but he caught your tail between his jaws and swung you down. 

You hit the earth with such force your vision turned black for a few seconds.

Your muscles protested and ached as you pushed yourself up with a hiss, streams of red spilling from your wounds and trickling down through the dirt on your scales. It was almost impossible to see through the thick veil but you knew from the second impact that he, too, was back on the ground. Not good. Your eyes stung and your damaged wing hung out in the angle that hurt the least, but you couldn't give up. You couldn't lose.  
A plan formed inside your mind.  
You listened closely to the sounds around you, tried to make use of your heightened sense of smell even though the blood tainting the inside of your mouth filled your lungs with the sickening stench of iron, and you managed to locate him: he was stalking closer.  
Time to go. 

With a swift turn you began to run away from him, using the energy you had taken to get yourself up in the air again. You needed to wear him out more, drain him more; but you were low on magic. If your own bodily energy would run out as well, you would undoubtedly die.

With every powerful movement of your wings you ascended higher, higher, higher yet; out of the vale and towards the clouds with Daene right behind you. It seemed your more streamlined body did indeed provide you with greater speed. He snapped at your tail, his dagger-like teeth dangerously close, but you were able to stay ahead of him; to climb with the energy you still had left. 

But you, too, were draining. 

Your bad wing was starting to tremble from exertion, your body feeling heavier and heavier as you forced it to rise up above the darkening clouds, yet you pushed yourself further. You only had one chance.

The air was getting thinner, the temperature getting cold. 

_”Do you think you can escape by flying up? You have no fire to keep you warm.”_

It was getting difficult to breathe, your vision blackening and returning, blackening and returning. 

_”This is your last chance to come with me. Don't you want to see the return of the dragons? Don't you want to belong amongst your own kin?”_

It was time. 

Without a warning you pulled your wings against your flanks as well as you could, then twisted around mid-air until you were facing down. You met his eyes, and saw the confusion flicker in them- until you dived straight at him. He tried to turn but you were faster, using gravity in your favour as you crashed yourself into him and sank your teeth in his neck, claws ripping through the copper-speckled membrane of his wings; he had little energy left to take but you took it nonetheless. The wind howled past, whipping and lashing as the two of you tumbled down so fast it was hard to keep your eyes open, your nails locked into his flesh and his into yours. It was difficult to breathe, too, when blood once more spilled from between your jaws and the fall made you spin and spin at a sickening speed. Daene roared and struggled, biting down in your already wounded shoulder and you cried out again but kept at it, kept biting and kicking and ripping and scratching while altitude was quickly lost. 

The ground was swiftly approaching. 

His wings hit and clashed and struck and he tried so hard to stop the fall, but it was useless. You were in control. You blocked out the pain and the wounds and the exhaustion, blocked out the trembling and the burns and the fear; and watched the earth come closer. 

Closer. 

_Closer-_

You retracted your claws and pushed yourself off, wings opening to catch the wind and slow your fall-

He hit the ground in an explosion of ashes, dirt, and dust, and the mountains rumbled. The debris shot up and your bad wing suddenly folded, sending you swerving to the side and surging towards the ground nonetheless. All you could do was brace yourself for the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :D


	74. LXXIV  I/II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for blood and gore.  
> [The song for this chapter is 'We (Too) Shall Rest' by Ólafur Arnalds. Please listen on repeat. ](https://open.spotify.com/track/19UXqvPOC94C2VDL4Y9H51?si=D-TI7vH-QRmteNjMml_5Jg)  
> [Youtube link to the song. Please put on 'loop'.](https://youtu.be/L4OylUEbDqc)
> 
>  
> 
>  

Your scales offered only so much protection against the stone foundation you slammed into, the bricks crumbling and scattering as the last remnants of the building collapsed on top of you. Wings spread and limp, tail nothing but a dead weight, blood still dripping. You couldn't hear anything.

Had you won? 

Had you... lost? 

Your head pounded so loud you could barely think, the beating of your heart only a faintly felt whisper in the background. You couldn't open your eyes.

This was it, then.  
This was the end. 

It seemed fitting to die amongst the remains of your youth. Amongst the corpses of the people you had failed to protect, breathing in their ashes and choking on them as you bled dry. Would your soul join them? Would you see them again? You didn't even know if that was something to hope for. To see their faces and know that you had caused their deaths simply by existing.  
Maybe it was best if you stopped existing at all.  
With the last of your energy you returned to your Asgardian form. Would Loki give you a burial ceremony? Would they send your body out on the lake and set the boat aflame with burning arrows? Everything ended with fire; it always did. 

A tear slipped from your waterline. You didn't want to die, you didn't want it to end here, to be out of time. There was so much you still wanted to do, so much you still wanted to see; there were still things to live for – people to live for. Loki, Thor, Brant, Iver, Jari, Trygve, Stigr, Rangvaldr, Einer, Dagny. Even Thomas and Bjarke. Dying would mean leaving them to their own devices. What if they were attacked again? Sure, they had two healers to help them out, but they didn't possess magic to heal deadlier wounds. You needed to survive, to stay alive, if only for them. If only to try again.  
_Please._

But you felt your heartbeat slow, your mind getting heavier. 

Everything was slipping through your fingers. 

More tears came, streaming, endlessly. You had lost so much in such a short time and yet you couldn't even accept the consequences. A bit pathetic, wasn't it? Selfish, almost.  
Selfish, how you could remember Loki's arms around you and still wish for more, how you could hear his voice but couldn't get enough of it. Selfish, how you wanted to kiss him one more time before you left. 

You could still feel how softly, drop by drop, the first touch of the rain hit your cheek.  
No... Not rain. 

You forced your eyes to open, forced your lashes to part so could watery vision could focus.

“Loki?” 

Your voice was but a hoarse whisper, barely more than the air your pushed from your lungs, but he heard you loud and clear and smiled, laughed, more tears hitting your skin as he pulled you further into his arms. You wanted to hold him but you couldn't, couldn't, couldn't do anything. Once more you had failed them. 

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, “I'm sorry.” _For putting you in danger, for Iver's bow, for Blacktree. For leaving you._

Your tears mixed with his, and the promised rain finally began to fall. Washing away the blood, the ashes, the dirt and the pain. It was getting colder.

“For what?” His voice was thick, the lump in his throat audible from the difficulty with which he spoke. 

“Everything.” 

His eyes widened a bit and he shook his head. “This is _not_ goodbye, do you hear me? Don't you dare fade away!” His hand brushed your cheek almost desperately, thumb trembling over your skin. “I need you, my love, please-” 

His magic encircled you, warmed you, fed you; but it was not what you needed. 

“Take my energy. I have enough for the both of us.” 

With the magic he gave you, you slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulled some energy from his body. Was it working? You didn't know. You scanned his face, the water dripping down his raven locks, saw the worry and the fear and – a cut? Had he... Had he been fighting?  
Then you felt that he had been lying: 

there was not nearly enough energy for the both of you. 

“I love you, Loki. I love you so much.” You tried to smile but instead more tears joined the rain. 

“No! No, I am _not_ letting you go! Fight for it! Fight for us!” 

But you were so tired.

Another silhouette knelt down beside you, blue eyes and golden hair you recognised, and his hand took hold of yours. 

“Take my energy, too.”

“And mine,” another voice joined in. Jari. 

Iver was there too, and Trygve, and Rangvaldr, and the others behind them. 

Thomas smiled, determination in his gaze as he knelt down and lay his fingers to your arm. “Take some of us all.” 

And with the magic Loki provided, you reached out. You took their energy, took a bit of them all - and as the hours passed you began to sense how your heartbeat grew stronger, more frequent; your lungs filling more deeply. The feeling in your fingers and toes gradually returned and you smiled, huffed out a disbelieving laugh as more water cascaded down your face. Warmth returned to your veins, your head growing clear. They chuckled when your stomach growled, wiping their waterlines and cheeks and smiling as Loki pulled you in his embrace and held you so tightly you could feel how tense his muscles were, how fast his heart was racing. 

A groan from a bit further off caught everyone's attention. 

“He's not dead yet.” Einer pulled his sword-

“Wait-” You coughed, your lungs finally finding the strength to try and get the dust from your lungs, and Loki gave you some space to breathe. “Don't kill him.” 

Everyone frowned; Thor was the first to speak. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I have questions.” You didn't dare look in his direction, however. You were too exhausted for rage. “He shouldn't -” Another coughing fit. “He shouldn't be able to transform for a while.” 

The crown prince nodded, then turned to his men. “All right. Tie him up and gag him.” 

 

Loki carried you in his arms, took you towards the trees where he held you until the men had finished making a bed of moss to lay you down on. Your blood-soaked shirt stained the green. 

The raven-haired prince sat down beside you; his back against a tree, his fingers around yours, and eyes closed. He was tired, too; but there was a question on your mind. 

“What happened?”

He opened his eyes, his brow slightly furrowing, until you used your free hand to touch your own cheek. He copied the gesture and his face contracted when his fingers found the split flesh.

“Ah, that. I was distracted for a moment, but it all ended in our favour.” 

It was your turn to frown, and he pointed further down the trees per explanation. There, tied up and gagged as well, sat the Leader of the bandits. 

“Wait, why-” Your lungs didn't allow you to finish. 

Rangvaldr sank through his legs and sat himself down on your other side. “Do you think we would simply allow him to go? He was part of this. The punishment is yours to decide, my lady.” 

“First she needs to rest,” Loki responded. 

You couldn't think, couldn't even try to hold on to a coherent thought. Loki was right.  
Their voices were soft, growing distant. It was not the threat of death that pulled your consciousness away this time, however, so you could let go without fear and closed your eyes as you drifted off. It was okay. You would wake up again. You were safe. 

You were alive.


	75. lXXIV II/II

“She needs to eat or she will starve, Brant.” 

“She will wake before that happens, let her rest-” 

“We don't know when she will wake up; or if she will even wake up again at all.” 

“Quiet, Stigr – increasing his worry will surely kill him.” 

“It's fine, he's asleep. I'm just voicing my own worries.” 

The sounds slowly registered and pulled the veil of sleep from your mind. You must have made a noise yourself as the two men hurried over and knelt down beside you, one calling out for Thomas, and soon there were two fingers on your pulse and the back of a hand against your forehead. 

“She's okay.” 

“I will go wake up my brother,” Thor's voice proclaimed.

The crust in your eyes almost prevented you from opening them, but when you expected your hand to be too heavy to lift and wipe it away you were surprised by how easily you brought it to your face. Your energy had mostly returned. Your magic, however, was more depleted than ever.  
The dryness and soreness of your throat caused your request for water to come out more painfully raspy than you had hoped, but luckily Thomas understood and handed you his water bladder. One was not enough. A second one came, and it took a third before you were truly satiated; but your stomach was next to demand attention. That, too, was swiftly tended to. After Bjarke helped you sit upright a bowl of warm stew was handed to you, spoon included, which you emptied with such speed it was a miracle you didn't choke. 

Now that your body had been properly cared for, your ability to observe, think, and realise returned.

Your shirt had been changed and your skin felt rather clean, your hair not too big of a mess, so they must have taken care of you – but they wouldn't have done that if they knew you were going to wake up the next morning and be able to do it all yourself. You met everyone's gazes, your head still a bit heavy. 

“How long was I asleep?”

“Four days and nights.” Thomas gave you a gentle smile, taking your empty bowl and passing it to Stigr. 

“That's... That's a long time.” 

“My love-” 

Loki strode over, the skin beneath his eyes dark and his face paler than you had ever seen it. Bjarke helped you to stand up before your lover took you into his arms and embraced you with a desperation that brought tears to your eyes. 

“I'm okay, I'm okay,” you assured him, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and holding tight. “I'm awake, and I'm okay.” 

He leaned back a bit to look you in your eyes. “Did you eat yet? Did you drink? Are you rested enough?” 

“I did, I am,” you replied with a smile. “Really, Loki; I'm fine.” 

He pressed his lips to yours in a relieved kiss, then rested his forehead against yours. “I was so-” He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the waver in his voice. “I was afraid you may not wake up again, that my relief had come too soon. If I had lost you after all, I-I-”

You kissed him this time, to silence him and his worries. “I know, I know; but I'm alive. You haven't lost me.” 

“I almost did. I almost did, _twice_ -” He stopped himself, closed his eyes and let out a shaking sigh. “It was so close. I had you i-in my arms and you were so cold, so, so... I could feel your heartbeat slowing, could see the light slowly dim in your eyes and I can't forget-” He choked on his own words. 

The bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin... 

You cupped his cheeks, searching his weary eyes. You almost didn't dare to ask. “Have you... Have you been having nightmares?” 

His silence spoke loud enough. 

Had you no longer been enough to keep his bad dreams at bay like before? You remembered that day in the city of Mestr, when he had first told you about his nightmares, all too well. How you had offered to guard over him while he got some rest, how you had told him you would do almost anything to make sure he slept well, and how it had ended up with you sleeping in his arms on a sofa in a rarely-visited nook of the library. 

_“You slept well, then? No nightmares?”_

_“Not a single one.” His smile morphed into a grin. “I might need you in my bed every night from now on.”_

And though you had declined that teasing 'request', more evidence that your presence truly helped him came only one day later. 

_“Where have you been?” There was an unpolished edge to his silver._

_“Hm?”_

_“You were gone. I couldn't feel your magic.”_

_“Brant's sister. Didn't you hear?”_

_He sighed, his whole posture radiating his irritation. “I forbid you to leave without telling anyone about it.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because I was wondering if I had to go looking for your dead body,” he snapped back._

He had been in love with you already, you knew now; and he had been terrified to lose you. 

_“I hope my nightmares will not morph into visions of you laying lifeless in the streets of Mestr.” He smoothed a hand over his face and up into his hair, before leaning his elbow above the windowsill and absently staring at the street below. “I was just about to send all of Thor's men to search for you when I heard them cheer your name.”_

Your arms wrapped around him again and you held him tight, cheek pressed against his chest. Back then you had proposed to join your beds together, and he had kept you in his embrace for the rest of the night until you had gotten up to get breakfast in the morning. Of course that idea had not completely gone according to plan – it had been Daene behind that door, you realised now – and the prince had shot up from his sleep with a gasp before you had even managed to leave the room. 

_“I thought you were gone-” his voice broke and he swallowed hard, his eyes wide and filled with fear._

If you had not gotten up, his peaceful sleep may not have morphed into something so dark it had left him terrified. 

But now... Now there was nothing you could do to soothe him.  
He tightened his grip for a bit, kissing the top of your head and murmuring his words against your hair.

“It is not your fault. Please do not feel responsible for my anxious mind, the nightmares will fade now that I can hold you again, now that I know that you are safe.” 

“But if my presence can no longer keep them at bay...”

His arms loosened around you so he could look you in your eyes. “Who claimed that? My love, having you in my bed calms my mind like nothing else.” 

“We did not allow him to sleep next to you.” Thor's smile was as warm and brotherly as ever as he came to stand with the two of you, joining the conversation. His gaze moved to Loki. “You needed your rest more than he needed his, and we feared his night terrors might wake you.” 

Loki shot him a pointed look that showed he had certainly not been pleased. “I could not convince them that I would not have had them in the first place if they had allowed me to stay by your side.” 

“We thought he was just being overly sentimental; a hopeless romantic.”

Your own smile returned and some of the weight left your shoulders. “He is rather sentimental, isn't he.”

“Oh do not act as if you hate it,” your lover scoffed; but he, too, was grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters referenced are chapters 24, 25, and 26.


	76. END BOOK II

You weren't sure what to say.  
You weren't sure what to think. 

You weren't quite sure of anything as you stood there, staring at the leader of the bandits. 

You sort of understood his motives for his actions but... he had still played a part in the destruction of Blacktree. Not that he had really known this was going to happen, though. Was he still guilty of being a part of it then? Or was he simply guilty of going too far to protect his people? Then how about you? How far would you have gone? Would you have kidnapped someone to ensure the safety of your own people? If it had saved everyone in Blacktree, would you not have done the same?  
The situations could not truly be compared, since you would still have had the option of changing forms and fighting Daene, and the bandits had had nothing; not even the simplest thing to defend themselves with against a dragon of his size.   
You had barely survived it yourself. 

Cool fingers intertwined with yours and you glanced to the side, meeting the confident look of your dark-haired lover as he softly squeezed your hand. He had confidence in you, in your judgment. All of them had. 

But your eyes found the gagged man bound to a tree in front of you and your mind was a mess.

How could you blame this man for protecting those he loved? How could you blame this man for choosing the lives of the many over the life of a stranger? He hadn't known the consequences would be this severe. No, he hadn't known how his actions would cause the death of everyone in the valley-  
You lay your free hand over your mouth and closed your eyes, but fighting the tears was useless. 

Loki let go and gently took you into his arms, holding you against his chest without saying a word. He knew this was hard for you and yet you had barely realised it yourself. Wishing it hadn't happened wouldn't change anything and running away wouldn't help either, but deciding whether someone should live or die or possibly worse... 

“I can't-” 

The lump in your throat prevented you from speaking. 

He hushed you, held you tighter. “It's okay, my love. There's no need for you to decide so soon. Take your time, we will stay here as long as you need us to.” 

You tried to focus on your breathing, tried to regain your composure. Though the decision may be heavy, it was yours to make. Yet was that even fair? You had family ties to the victims, you were someone who had lived here, had belonged here; not a witness or a neutral party. Could you be judge and jury when you were mourning? You glanced at the others. Would they be your jury, then; or would they be biased too after seeing your tears? After knowing you for quite some time? After having grown bonds with you?   
Their gazes stood respectfully sorrowful, their patience keeping them from speaking up. You knew they cared more for you than they ever would for the bandits or their leader, and there was no doubt they would gladly take his life. 

An idea came to mind. 

You dried your cheeks and straightened your shoulders, a last deep breath in and out before you stepped out of your lover's embrace and were able to put strength in your voice again. 

“Take out his gag, please.” 

Confusion crept into their gazes, but the determination on your face must have convinced them and Trygve stepped forward, taking out the ball of fabric. 

“Thank you so u-” 

“Don't speak unless you have been asked a question.” 

You spoke softly yet sternly, an authoritarian placidity to your words that surprised even you – but you didn't show it. Perhaps your time at the Yllgardian palace had trained you in hiding the emotions you felt.   
Inhale, Exhale. Everyone was looking at you. 

“Please tell me your name.” 

There was a bit of wariness in his eyes, now. “Halvor Brennason.” 

Brennason? It was unusual to take your mother's name as your surname instead of your father's, even if he had passed away. The possible reasons as for why he had done this were endless, however, and for now it didn't matter; but you made a mental note of it nonetheless. First things first. 

“Do you swear to speak the truth?” 

“I swear, milady.” 

Ah, he had changed his tone: from sweetheart to a highly respectful milady. He feared you, no doubt. He had good reason to.

“Did you attack these men after we arrived in the valley?” You glanced to the side, but the cut on Loki's cheek was gone. 

“Not of our own accord, milady. I do admit we tried to get away, but all proper-thinking folk would do that when seeing two dragons battle. Your men stopped me from getting away and my men defended me until I told them to go.” 

You looked at the soldiers, and they nodded; but you didn't know if this made things less or more complicated. Your attention shifted back to Halvor.

“Correct me if I am wrong, but this is what I understand so far. Your contractor threatened your life and the lives of the people of your settlement if you didn't accept his offer. If you did accept he promised you something you called 'certainty'. This meant he would provide your settlement with protection?”

The bandit leader nodded his head. “Correct. Well, sort of. He said that once we gave you to him he would build an empire of his own, an empire as high in glory as Asgard or Yllgard, and in which we would be allowed to exist without the constant fear of other bandits and raiders destroying what we hold dear.” 

Your face wrinkled in slight disgust – Yllgard held no glory whatsoever – but quickly smoothened out your expression again. A hum for him to continue. 

“We would fall under his protection, and since he showed us his true form it was something that gave us hope. He promised a life without worry if we served him well, but we knew we could expect a slow death if we wronged him. No one wanted to go against a dragon.”

Hope and fear often mixed well, you were beginning to notice. 

“In his empire we could have status and riches and we would be comfortable and happy for the rest of our lives. Is that not something you wish for the people you love?” 

Riches and status were things you had only recently come into contact with and so you weren't quite sure what to think of it, but of course you wanted your loved ones to be happy and comfortable. You were starting to be more and more convinced that this man had just been given a horrible choice that was not even truly a choice in the first place; and he had acted merely out of survival. It would be unfair to take his life for it. 

“Did you know what he would to to Blacktree?”

“No; I swear, milady.” 

As you had expected. “Do you have anything more to say in your defense?” 

He blinked, worry making his brows furrow together and the corners of his mouth pull down. All that confidence and wit, that slightly insane intelligence, the dominant posture, it had fallen off of him like he had dropped a facade. 

“The dragon- the contractor, he told us to kill anyone who stood in the way of our mission to get you to him. We let your men live. We could have killed them, but we let them live. Please, milady, have mercy-” 

But he fell silent at Loki's dangerous glare. You almost unnoticeably shook your head at the raven-haired prince and the invisible swirling of his magic lessened, his muscles losing some of their tension, before you turned your gaze back to the man bound to the tree.   
You had made up your mind. 

“I'll let you live, and there will be no negative consequences for your settlement, either.” 

The man's eyes widened and none of the soldiers nor princes truly knew how to react, so you continued. 

“You didn't have a choice. It wasn't only the temptation of happiness but also the fear of losing what you already have, and no one should have to choose between saving those they care for or staying true to their morals and values. I... I'm afraid I don't know what punishment to give. You did destroy Iver's bow, something that was very dear to him, and your men were not exactly gentle to us; so I can't just let you walk free. I hope you understand that.”

He swallowed hard but nodded. “I understand. Thank you, milady, thank you. We will do anything you want, give you anything we can offer even if it isn't much. Our settlement has strong men and women that are a valuable asset to your army or would serve you loyally as your personal guard; we have great hunters, too, and a few beautiful singers. Anything you want, milady; but please punish me and not them.” 

“I won't, though I would like to visit your settlement once I... once I have taken care of things here.”   
“Of course.” A relieved sigh escaped his lungs. 

You stepped away, and when Trygve held up the gag you shook your head. That wouldn't be necessary anymore. “Untie him and give him something to drink and something to eat, he won't try anything.” 

Because he didn't know you couldn't transform anymore for a while, and he didn't want to put his people's life on the line. 

Your hand found your forehead. All this thinking, all this talking; even though it wasn't much compared to before it seemed to drain you a bit quicker this time. If this was what talking to Halvor did to you then you didn't dare to even look in Daene's direction. The mere thought of him made your jaws clench, made the fingers of your free hand curl into a fist – but you lacked the strength to keep your muscles tensed like that and released it all with a deep exhale. 

“You did well.” Loki lay his hand on the small of your back, the gentle touch offering the support you needed, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I am proud to see my statement still stands firm; perhaps even firmer than before.” 

A slight frown formed on your face. “What statement?” 

“That you would make a fine queen, my love.” 

And he kissed you again, sweetly, lovingly; though this time on your lips. 

 

 

 

The next few days were the hardest ones of your life. 

Together with Dagny and the men you built rafts from the trees they cut. The soldiers took turns in guarding the camp and the two prisoners, though Halvor offered to help as well; and you allowed him. Thomas and Bjarke kept a close eye on your health and stopped you from working whenever you were close to overexerting yourself. Hours and hours passed in a daze as you kept yourself busy, kept cutting wood and building rafts, until the lake's shore had been covered in them and your hands were raw, blistered, bleeding.   
But it wasn't the physical part that made it so hard. 

No, it was what came next. 

It was the searching through the ashes and the rubble of what had been your home, it was carrying the malformed corpses of the people you had known to the waterline; it was the stench of death and the feel of rotting flesh against your skin.   
It was knowing that you could never turn back time to prevent this from happening.   
It was the endless fight against guilt and self-blame, the endless fight against yourself, your emotions, your memories. It was the breakdowns, the moments of crying your eyes out until you felt empty, it was the shame that you felt at seeing the pity in everyone's eyes. 

It was the often-returning fear of what would become of you if you would lose them as well. 

 

When all the bodies had been collected, of adults and children alike, and the sun was beginning to sink below the mountains, the people gathered at the waterside; eyes mournful as they stared at the sober rafts. They deserved so much better, deserved flowers and candles and a farewell speech; but when you opened your mouth you knew it was useless. The lump in your throat began to grow, began to choke you. When tears began to blur your vision again you gave up.   
You couldn't even give them that last honour.

With Loki, Thor, and Dagny by your side you watched the rafts being pushed onto the calm water, beds of grass and leaves that had been dried in the sun the only comfort for those who had passed away. 

It was time to step forward. 

You lifted the bow Thor had borrowed you and with your still-returning magic you set the oil-covered arrow-tip aflame.   
You pulled back the string, and released it. 

There was no wind. No sound save for the quiet chitter of birds. 

The arrow hit the raft, and the flames took hold in the grass. 

Trygve, Stigr, Jari.   
Einer, Rangvaldr, Brant.   
Iver, with the bow you passed on to him.   
They stepped forward, rose the arrows high as magic lighted them up, and released them all at once. The other rafts quickly accepted the fire. 

Below the early stars, your lover's arm around your shoulders and your friends at your side, you watched it burn. 

 

Everything ended with fire.  
It always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is not the end! Book III is coming ♡  
> Thank you for your patience, my dear readers; your comments and support have made it possible for me to get so far in the first place. I've been writing this fic for almost two years now (the 2nd anniversary is coming on the 18th of may!) and I never could have imagined that so many people would love it! So thank you, without all of you I might have stopped writing for this fic a long time ago ♡ ♡ ♡
> 
> Please feel free to send any questions you may have to the Fǫruneyti blog, or join the discord for updates!   
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> The updating may still be slow for a while, but once my holiday starts I hope to go back to one chapter every two weeks! ♡


	77. THE BEGINNING OF BOOK III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After two months I am finally back! I missed this so much. Thank you for your patience and your continued support, it has kept my head in the story and it means so much to me I couldn't have done it without!  
> [Recommended song for this chapter, please put on loop! ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gvhFLmv2_U)

You sat by the waterline for hours; watching the burning rafts light up the night, watching the flames reflect in the motionless water.   
Watching them dim, and watching them extinguish.   
Loki comforted you for a while but then left you to mourn in solidarity, only interrupting to bring you something to eat or something to drink, but he was never far. 

Only when your exhausted brain threatened with turning itself off did you trade the pebbled lakeside for the camp inside the woods. 

 

Maybe your subconscious was too afraid to dream, because the night was short and dark - over in what felt like a few heartbeats at most – and when you awoke in your lovers arms the scattered light greeted you through the canopy.   
You didn't feel like getting up yet.  
You wanted to sink back into that darkness, wanted to forget everything that existed if only for a few moments more, wanted to just _be_ , without any strings attached. But you knew you shouldn't.  
You stirred a bit, turned into the embrace until you could place a kiss against Loki's lips – and he gratefully accepted it. 

“Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” 

He squeezed you a bit tighter. 

“Do you want to go to the settlement today, or would you prefer to stay here a bit longer?” 

“Today is good. I... I need to keep going. I need to pick myself up and continue because I'm- I'm a bit afraid of what will happen to me if I overstay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear. You feared that darkness that called for you, that emptiness that wanted to sink its claws into your heart. You couldn't allow it to get too close. 

The colours in his eyes were dimmed by sorrow, and his fingertips brushed over your cheek and into your hair. “It is okay to mourn, to take your time. Don't speed up the process. If you want to leave today then please know I can take you back here as soon as my magic has been replenished.” 

But you weren't sure if you wanted to come back here at all. 

“I know, thank you.” 

The two of you rose for the day, washed up in the lake under the privacy of his magic, accepted the dinner Bjarke had made, and informed Thor of your decision – who, in turn, informed the others. Nobody talked more than needed and silence filled the camp, eyes cast down and averted.  
Distance. There was so much distance.   
Between you and Loki, between you and your friends, between your body and your soul. Everywhere. It was... similar, perhaps, to the loneliness you had felt before; yet different. Worse. So much worse. Instead of wanting to rip your heart out you felt it wither inside your chest and you couldn't even cry anymore. 

Everyone was gone. 

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on the feeling of Loki's arms around your waist and the reins in your hands. You were still here, even if you weren't the same person as before. You were alive. Breathing, thinking, feeling. Alive. And there were still so many things left to do.  
Your eyes found Daene, bound and gagged, held captive between Rangvaldr's muscular arms as he was brought along.  
Your prisoner.   
You felt like throwing up, like your intestines were trying to force their way up and out. Why had you kept him alive? Why weren't you punishing him for all he had done? Why didn't you just ask your dagger back from Dagny and bury it in his chest? Would revenge even help? Would it stop you from feeling so... so hollow? Or would it fill you with hate once again, only to consume you alive? Would it grant you peace? Would it give you closure? Would it put the dead to rest?

The feeling of lips pressing softly against the back of your head pulled you from your thoughts, the prince's voice drowning out the questions. 

“Please talk to me.” 

He sounded desperate, though he tried to hide it.

“We have been riding for three hours and you haven't spoken a word. You know... You know you can talk to me, right?” 

You leaned back against him, let him rest his chin atop your head and closed your eyes again. “I know, I know... I- I just... I don't know what to say. Part of me doesn't want to weigh you down with my… with everything, but I realise I would want you to do that to me if our situations had been reversed. I'm sorry, there's just... so much.” 

“Tell me everything that's on your mind, every emotion occupying your heart. To see you like this, my love... It hurts me more than anything else ever could. Let me take some of your pain. Let me share yours.” 

The six days of absence between the two of you came to mind; when, after talking on the rooftop that night, he had not even as much as looked at you. The isolation you had felt had been nowhere near as great as now but it was not something you would ever be able to forget, even though you hadn't been aware of your feelings for Loki yet. You were sure he felt similarly now – most likely far worse; and your heart stung. You weren't going to do that to him.

You took a deep breath, and tried to put everything into words. “I worry about whether I have made the right decisions. There is little I regret, because I know it lead me to you and all those other wonderful people, but I wonder... Was there a way in which I could have kept everyone alive? Was one of my choices responsible for causing all of this? If I had chosen differently, would we have returned to smiling faces and warm welcomes? I could have properly introduced you to- to my parents-” 

You had been wrong about not being able to cry anymore. Your throat clenched shut so violently you felt like it was trying to strangle you and your heart contracted as if it was trying to turn in on itself, endless water drowning your lungs.   
Oh how they would have smiled, would have laughed in delight and happiness no doubt, how they would have hugged him and accepted him and complimented him for keeping you safe all this time. The joy in their eyes as they would tease him about whether he was 'worthy' of their daughter, the curiosity on their faces as they would have asked each and every question in existence to get to know him better. The possibility now gone, reduced to nothing but imaginary sceneries inside your mind. That future did no longer exist. Your fantasies of living at the palace with Loki and him teleporting the two of you to and fro Blacktree frequently to visit your family and your childhood friends – gone. 

“My love, my sweetest, please...” You could hear the held-back tears in his voice too as he pleaded, pleaded oh so softly, hushed you and tightened his grip around you so he could brush his hand over your arm. “Wherever they are, be it Valhalla, the stars, Yggdrasil, or anywhere else, I am certain they look down upon us with the proudest looks on their faces. All the choices you made, all the people you helped... How could they not be happy? How could they not be proud of you? I know, I wish I could have met them too, but I am confident that they know how deep my love for you runs and that will look through my flaws. That is what I choose to believe.” 

He kissed the top of your head again, longer this time, holding you tightly against his chest as your shoulders shocked with every choked sob. 

“It's impossible to know where our choices and actions will lead us, but you are not at fault here. You are not at fault.”

You shook your head. “If- if I h-hadn't been what I am this wouldn't have happened- I would have- I could have- it wouldn't have happened and they would all still be-” 

“You. Are not. At fault. Nothing, not even your heritage, can be blamed; and I will tell you so over and over until you know it is the unquestionable, undeniable truth. If that vile monster hadn't been obsessed with power, with revenge, or whatever else motivated him to abandon his morals and empathy so fully, everything would have been different. If he hadn't existed, hadn't acted on his obsession, hadn't followed through... There were too many things at play, my love; too many things out of your control. Out of anyone's control.” 

His words sounded reasonable, logical, and yet... 

“If I hadn't left I could have protected them. I could have protected them.” Your voice was nearly gone, a mere whisper remaining. “I could have stopped him.” 

“But I wouldn't have gotten the chance to fall in love with you.” 

He sounded hurt – not because of you, not because of your words, but because the thought alone of what would have happened if you hadn't come along on their journey was far too terrifying to think about. For both of you.

“I would have married princess Ylva, Dagny would not have been cured, the Yllgardian servant's situation would not have changed, and prince Erlend would have been able to continue his revolting behaviour. Your leaving has positively impacted not only the lives of many individuals, but has caused a shift in an entire kingdom. Because of you the realm will be a better place.” 

The gentle caressing as well as his words calmed you down a bit. You had never truly desired to change the realm, nor any part of it, but he was right – though none of that could be fully put on you, either. It was like he had said: too many things were simply out of control, out of yours or anyone else's. But you had played a part in it, and if you hadn't travelled with them some of the good things might not have happened. Were you allowed to focus on that? Were you allowed to just deny yourself any sort of blame for the deaths of so many people? Did there always need to be someone to blame? It wouldn't exactly help the deceased.

A shaky sigh escaped your lungs. “Maybe you're right. It – I - I didn't know. I couldn't have known... right?” 

“Exactly.” Another kiss. “Knowing that will not make it hurt any less, but I hope it takes away the guilt; it would only weigh you down and damage the way you look at yourself. I won't allow that to happen.”

Why... why did it sound like he was speaking from experience? You wanted to glance up and look at him but he nuzzled the top of your head and still kept you tightly against his chest. At times like this you hated riding horseback.   
Had he been in a similar situation before? But how?   
You took one hand from the reins and lay it over the arm wrapped around your waist and worry began to lace your words. 

“What happened to you? Was it something similar to... to this?” 

“In a way.” 

He was silent for a moment, and you didn't dare to speak again. 

“As you know I was... tortured.” 

You nodded ever so slightly, remembering the conversation well. How he had opened up to you about his youth. How he had been so full of hate towards himself. 

“Do you remember the reason?” 

A surge of momentary hate. “Because your father is an arse.” 

He laughed. “Well, I suppose that is true too, for the second time it happened. But it is not the reason I meant.” 

You could almost feel how the mirth within him faded. It showed in how his hand stilled on your arm for a second, in how he took just a bit longer to breathe in again, and you knew the subject was still painful to him. 

“I did not give you details before so as not to scare you, but I... I killed people. I took twenty-two lives, over a hundred when you count the ones that died indirectly because of my actions, and I carried the guilt like a man trying to lift a mountain. I wonder how it hadn't crushed me yet by the time I met you.” He chuckled softly, but it was empty, and when he continued his voice was softer.   
“I wasn't truly in control of my own body but I saw it all; saw the light fade from their eyes or saw the blood gushing from their wounds and knew they were done for, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I counted them. I still remember them – every single one of them.” 

He took in a slow breath while you held yours. 

“I was forced to do what I did, terrified of what else he would do to me if I disobeyed. He had broken my mind and body so many times I lost everything but my will to survive. But it was... It was still me who killed them – even if I didn't want it, even if I tried to prevent it. It was still me who took their lives. I tried to think of ways to get away, tried to let my brother and his friends know by picking my words carefully, giving them second meanings hidden beneath, and by going as easy on them as I could during fights without looking suspicious. One wrong move, and it would be the end of me.” 

The idea filled you with such intense fear of losing him that you began sobbing again, and when he spoke again it almost sounded hurried. 

“What I am trying to say is that I hated myself for that ever since, until I met you. You cried for me, consoled me, called my father an arse, and your kindness made me doubt the things I had accepted about myself. Was I truly unlovable? Did I not deserve to be hated after what I had done? How could you respect me, even when you knew of my past? I had so many conflicting emotions, so many thoughts and questions that I had to take my distance from you to figure it all out. Your words made me realise that I might not be to blame for all that happened.” 

He kissed your shoulder this time, leaning the side of his head against yours, and you knew it was for the both of you. Love, support, reassurance. 

“If my biological father had not left me for dead, if Odin hadn't adopted me or if he hadn't kept my race a secret, everything could have gone differently. So many 'what if's that it was useless to think of them all. Of course there were moments it were my own actions that sent me down a worse path, and there are things I might not forgive myself for; but I realised how many things were out of my control and I managed to set myself free of the guilt I carried because of it.   
I am not trying to compare the intensity of our suffering, nor am I trying to say you should simply get over it. Things like this... they are hard to live with. But I am here for you, and perhaps the things I learned from my experiences may help you live with yours.” 

Your throat didn't allow you to answer for a moment so you squeezed his arm, wishing you could just hold him like you wanted to, and when you regained the ability to speak your voice was hoarse and watery. 

“Thank you, I... Thank you.” 

There was more to the story, you were sure of it. Who had tortured him so? Who had sent him out to do all those horrible things, and why? How had he escaped it? But now was not the time. There, between the trees up ahead, walls of wood and stone rose up from the fern-covered ground; and the Bandit Leader's announcement that they had arrived signaled that there was no more time for tears. 

So you slowly sat up and straightened your back, wiped across your cheeks with the side of your hand, and prepared yourself for whatever was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be a bit out of the flow, so if you notice anything off please tell me. And please tell me when you liked something too, of course! I love reading your comments so much.   
> I hope to return to uploading every fortnight and I'll keep you updated on the [Tumblr](https://foruneyti.tumblr.com) as well as on my Patreon! 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me ♡


	78. LXXVII

Thor and Dagny moved closer on Vænn, and though the former seemed rather at ease, the latter had slight panic in her eyes. She was the first to speak when the two of them got near enough. 

“Are you sure about this? The bandit scum ran back when they knew they couldn't beat these guys, and they might have turned everyone against you. What if they think their leader is dead and shoot you on the spot?” 

“I won't allow it,” Loki interjected sharply, but you laid a hand over his and squeezed it softly before addressing Dagny yourself. 

“I don't think they will just start attacking.” Or at least so you hoped. “We will let them know we've got their leader with us, unharmed, and I'm sure they will let us in to get him back.” He seemed to be on your side now, after all. 

_“We will do anything you want, give you anything we can offer even if it isn't much. Our settlement has strong men and women that are a valuable asset to your army or would serve you loyally as your personal guard; we have great hunters, too, and a few beautiful singers. Anything you want, milady; but please punish me and not them.”_

What were you to do? You couldn't speak for Thor or Loki, let alone the king and queen of Asgard themselves, and so any promises about giving these people a chance to join their army might be impossible to keep. You couldn't promise them jobs or the security they so desperately fought for. Yes, you had saved his life and the lives of his men by pardoning him, and you supposed that you had defeated the threat that had been looming over them, but still...  
You glanced at Halvor from the corner of your eye. Trygve had taken him along, no bindings or gag like Daene, and he seemed calm - though there was no way around the guilt and distress in his eyes.  
If there was anything Asgard could offer them you would have to ask the princes about it. 

The wall got nearer, nearer yet, until the party was gathered together and there were only a few steps left to go. Why was there no shouting? Shouldn't they be making themselves ready to attack? You let a tiny bit of your magic seep out of you and let it float through the woods around, until you felt the presence of bodies up in the trees. You were surrounded.  
From the way Loki's grip grew a bit tighter, his posture a bit straighter, you knew he had noticed them as well; detecting the invisible in the same way as you had. No one else had noticed them yet. 

You turned to Halvor, then, and spoke his name. “Tell your people to stand down.”

He brought his fingers to his lips and whistled – two short tones, then a longer one – before calling out that he was fine, and that it was safe to let all these people in. 

With their movement they finally appeared to the eye, camouflaged to blend in perfectly with their surroundings: every inch of uncovered skin had been painted to look like bark and leaves and their clothes matched the colours of the environment perfectly. You had little energy to admire it fully, though.  
They climbed and slid down or dropped themselves from the lower branches, and in their eyes you could read their confusion and surprise. They hadn't expected him to come back. 

One woman advanced on the party and sheathed her two longer daggers, raising her hands right after to show she had no intent to attack while in the mean time she scanned the men's faces. They lingered on yours, then shot back to Halvor. 

“You're alive. Is it really you?” She sounded suspicious. 

“It is! They defeated the dragon and spared my life – our lives. They are our guests; please, let us in. I need to speak to Mother.” 

“You'll have some explaining to do.” 

“Please just let us in first, Syri.” 

She turned halfway around and whistled like Halvor had done, though a different set of notes, and a bit off to the left the wall seemed to part at the bottom of it; creating an opening tall enough for a horse without a rider. 

“Get off and follow.” 

 

The party entered the settlement taking the horses by their reigns; Loki having taken Egil's and Thor guiding both Vænn and Rangvaldr's horse so that the soldier could keep his full focus on the man you had taken prisoner. No one truly kept an eye on Halvor anymore, but it didn't feel necessary.

And you had to admit: what they had built here over time was impressive.

To deal with the sloping ground they had cut and hewn from the rising mountain at the back of their settlement, the exposed stone now ascending near-perfectly vertical, and had used their minings to straighten the forest floor in levels. The little walls keeping the soil in place protruded higher and offered more lines of defense should their wooden one fail to keep standing; and though most trees had been cut down to make room for the cabins and houses some had been left standing at corners and beside the little stairs that connected all levels to one another.  
It was quite a beautiful sight to see. 

The horses were taken to the stables on the lowest level and the group was guided up the many stairs, higher and higher, until you could look out over the woods and down towards the valley with the lake within it. To the gently uneven fields beside, where once Blacktree had stood.  
You turned away from the sight.  
Your eyes fell on Dagny, who, despite how much she had healed, still lacked the stamina to get up the stairs as quickly as the others could and was lagging behind quite a bit already. Brant and Trygve were with her but it seemed she refused to be carried by either of them, and it made a smile tug at the corners of your lips – she was headstrong, just like you. Perhaps one of the reasons the two of you got along so well. 

“I'm relieved to see you smile, my love.” A hand on the small of your back; comforting, supportive, loving. The raven-haired prince kissed your temple. “Whether I am the reason for it or not.”

A quiet chuckle escaped you before you could help it. “If I were to smile because of you alone I'd be horrible company when you're away.” 

“I'll simply have to take you with me wherever I go.” 

You rolled your eyes and ignored his smirk, but the moment softened your heart. For a few seconds the two of you stood in comfortable silence, watching Trygve offer Dagny his arm to help pull her along. She finally accepted. 

“She still has your dagger.” 

“She does.” 

He was silent for a few seconds more; then, quieter: 

“Do you not want it back? If I remember correctly your mother gave it to you. It's...” 

He didn't finish his sentence, but you knew what he was going to say. It was the only thing you had left of her. 

“She needs it more than I do. When we find a good blacksmith Brant is going to get her a dagger of her own, and I'll ask mine back.” 

And so the matter was closed, Dagny and the two soldiers catching up, and the five of you followed after the rest as Syri led them to the building overlooking all the others. A little town hall, it seemed to be, with a dais at the back; which too was made of the stone taken from the mountain. Halvor stood in front of it, hands moving as he spoke with fervor to an elderly woman that looked in no way pleased. Had you been mistaken, then? Was Halvor not their leader after all? By now it seemed silly to ask.  
He was nearing the end of his summarised recounting of what had happened while he had been away, and at mentioning the dragon had been defeated the woman's shoulders sagged in relief; the tension flowing from her body as well as from the two guards next to her and from Syri, who stood off towards the right. The woman interrupted him before he could continue.

“I'm glad it's dead. We were terrified when we saw a second one; did you kill that one too? Who knows how many are still out there... Did you leave the corpses down in the valley? Maybe we can get coin from selling parts.” 

Dread rose inside of you and with slight caution you made eye contact with Halvor. He, too, seemed to realise bringing Daene up here might not have been such a good idea, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed to prepare himself for breaking the news that the dragon was, in fact, not dead. That both of them were still very much alive. 

“Well, you see-” 

But the woman's eyes found Daene bound and gagged amongst Thor's men and she shot up out of her chair as if it was death itself before her. You supposed, for her, it might very well seem that way.  
Her gaze shot to Thor, rage and fear within it. 

“How dare you bring it here?! Kill it, kill it right now or I swear I will do it myself!” Her panic shifted to Halvor then. “You traitor! You brought it back here, knowing well what it has caused us - I'll have you hanged!”

The guards pulled their swords but Thor stepped forward from the party, hands held up in a calming gesture. “There is no need for that. The dragon has indeed been defeated; he will not be able to cause any more harm and has been taken as our prisoner until a sentence for his deeds has been formed. I understand your anger, but the decision is not yours to make.”

“Not mine to make?” Somehow she managed to hiss those words. Her hands clenched into fists and the look in her eyes turned so poisonous it could make flowers wither on the spot. “It threatened to eradicate us if we didn't cooperate! I sent my best men on a dangerous mission a great distance away from here to capture some innocent woman and hand her over to that monster, risking their lives as well as our own if they should fail, and you're telling me that I do not have the right to kill it like it deserves? This realm is far better off without it. And if that other one is still roaming around as well because you were too _weak_ to end it-” 

“He is under the protection of Thor Odinson; if you try to harm him it will be an act of treason against the All-father.” Thor ignored the part about the second dragon altogether. 

“We are in no man's land, boy; I don't care who you are. We belong to no kingdom and so we don't have to abide its rules.” 

“Please, Mother,” Halvor tried to step in, but he was shushed by the mere movement of her hand. 

“Give me one good reason why I wouldn't have it slaughtered right now – it and anyone who stands in my way.” 

You guessed it was your time to speak up. You left the safety of the group and stepped out to stand beside Thor, Loki joining you at your unoccupied side, and met the gaze of the woman atop the stone dais. 

“You were not the only victims of his plan. You have a perfect view of the valley below, and so you must know what happened to the village that stood within it.” A deep breath in before you continued. “Blacktree was my home. The people that lived there were my friends and family. Your settlement might have been threatened but you have not lost anyone – whereas I have no one left. I was the girl he wanted, the girl your men kidnapped.” 

The look in her eyes shifted, but what she said was not what you had expected. 

“I am so relieved to hear you are alive! I can't image what that monster would have done to you. We all prayed you would be all right, though it's horrible what happened to your village. We couldn't do anything but watch as he set it all on fire, the flames rose so high and the smell reached us here-” 

Your intestines twisted and the taste of bile rose in the back of your throat so you quickly interrupted her - “And so his sentence is mine to give!” 

Which shut her up. 

Loki's hand returned to the small of your back and his thumb brushed over the fabric gently, the worry in his gaze masterfully hidden but obvious to you from the way his magic invisibly moved through the air. You touched it with your own for a moment, to soothe him as much as yourself.  
You were all right. You were all right. It was okay, you were all right. 

For a moment it looked as if she was going to object again, but either the glare Loki gave her made her promptly change her mind or she finally realised that they did not deserve to make the decision after all. Once more she eyed Daene. 

“So a gag and some rope are all it takes to tame a dragon? What did you do to the second one? Are you willing to give that one to us to get our revenge?” 

Dagny snorted and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth, yet for some reason that sound gave you strength, gave you the ability to see the absurdity of her question, and you were able to respond more calmly. The nauseating feeling faded. 

“Not all dragons are monsters. They fought each other, and though the brown one was not on our side, the black one was.” 

You didn't know if this was the right thing to say or if it was better to reveal that you were the black dragon, but you had always kept it as a secret and so your instinct had urged you to keep it that way. All you could do was choose your words well and hope she would not see the golden specks in your eyes and compare them to the copper ones Daene had. 

Still, the woman seemed unconvinced. 

“And where is it now?” 

“There is no need for you to know. I can promise you, however, that it will not pose a threat to your settlement. Please know that it means no harm.” 

There was the risk that the bandits who had accompanied Halvor would tell on you, so you would need to discuss it later – if it wasn't already too late. For now you needed the discussion to turn in another direction. 

“I have decided not to punish Halvor, his men, or anyone else for the kidnapping; but I will not just let it go either.” You didn't quite care how the woman seemed surprised and uneasy, and continued. “My friend's bow was destroyed. It was very dear to him and it can't simply be replaced with another, but he does need a substitute for the rest of our journey.” 

“It will be arranged. What else do you demand?” 

You supposed you could demand a dagger for Dagny and replace it with a better one once you reached a bigger city, allowing you to ask your own one back from her; but all the soldier's weapons had already been returned as well as any other possessions, including your two bags, so there was no need to ask for more than that. 

“Only a dagger.” 

She nodded at Syri, who then left quickly, before her gaze turned back to you.

“Then I suppose I should thank you for your mercy and apologise for my words earlier. These last few weeks have been tough on us – all of us – and though it's no excuse it might explain my rudeness. You are free to stay here as long as you want.”

“I need to discuss a few things in private, but after that we will be on our way again.” 

“Very well.” 

She nodded once and let out a sigh, though from relief or weariness you didn't know, and she made her way down the dais with her two guards following suit. 

“I'll be in the back room if you need me; Syri will bring you the weapons soon.” 

And with that she disappeared, the door falling shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it! ❤


	79. LXXVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience!  
> The recommended background song, softly: [Jóhann Jóhannsson - A Sparrow Aligted Upon Our Shoulder](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Emexgu-BMS4%22)

You only needed to say a few words to Halvor and he already understood, promising that he would tell everyone who knew to keep your secret even from Brenna, his mother, and he seemed honest when he told you he could send a few of his men to come along with your fellowship – to make up for the ones that had run off at the first chance they had gotten. He meant the Yllgardians, of course.  
But you knew there was ulterior hope behind the proposal: that, if his men protected all of you well, they would be offered a job in Asgard. 

All you could do was tell him you would discuss it with the others. 

 

As soon as he was off and out of earshot Dagny came up to you, a slightly guilty look in her eyes. 

“I'm sorry for letting that slip back there, I didn't mean to interrupt.” 

You chuckled, waving her apology away. “It's fine; it even helped me if I have to be honest. If only she knew who she had been talking to.” 

Dagny let out a huff of laughter herself but her gaze didn't lose its serious hue, her voice a bit softer than before. “Why didn't you tell her, though? If she knew she wouldn't have talked that way about you, she would have begged you for mercy instead. She wouldn't have dared to say those things.” 

You had to admit, it did... it did sting a little – or, well, quite a bit - to be talked about that way. To be seen as a monster and addressed as such. To be wished dead. You didn't doubt these people would have cut your corpse up into pieces to sell it all and the thought made your intestines twist once more, though less nauseatingly so - because you knew that these people were clueless. Everyone was, apart from your group of friends, and even you yourself were still learning about that part of who you were. How could you blame them for hating something that had threatened them and frightened them so deeply? They didn't know that not all dragons were the same. They hadn't even known they still existed in the first place. If you had shown them your dragon form... Would it only have terrified them further? Or would it have made them realise that you really had no intent to hurt them? You were sure Brenna wouldn't have taken too kindly to Halvor bringing _two_ dragons into the settlement though, no matter whether or not you turned out to be harmless.

You pulled yourself out of your train of thought and focused on Dagny again. “In any case I wouldn't want to frighten them further. I could have shown them my other form – I still could, but only to let them know I'm not like Daene. That I'm not – that I'm not a monster. If I made them beg for mercy I'm sure it would only make their hatred worse in the end.” 

And this was not even close to what Loki had gone through, was it? The reputation you had heard of... it must have haunted him every single day. And it still followed him everywhere, didn't it? Not here, not to this settlement or the other villages in the Land Between Kingdoms, and perhaps not to other secluded parts of the realm – but it followed him to every other place where they knew his name. Asgard, Yllgard, maybe even the other kingdoms you didn't know the names of.  
The thought made anger bubble up inside of you. Were people truly so ignorant that they didn't even try and look past their prejudices? You felt like you had gone over this before and so let the frustration leave with a sigh. 

If anyone ever dared to do as much as _look_ at Loki the wrong way you were going to make sure they would regret it, though. 

“Hey, are you all right? You don't look so good.” 

You managed to smile at her. “I'm okay, I just... I just have a lot to think about.” And everything seemed to tire you so quickly; it was only a few hours after noon and you already felt like you could sleep for days. “I still need to speak to Thor.” 

She eyed you with worry – had been, every once in a while, since you had awoken after the fight – and set a step forward to pull you into a hug. You returned it gratefully. 

Once she let go she pulled your dagger from her belt and held it out for you to take. “Thank you for letting me borrow it, and for getting me a dagger of my own.” Her eyes were kind and understanding. “I know how important it might be to you.” 

You hesitated a bit when reaching out. It was almost silly how your fingers trembled ever so slightly; as if the moment you touched it memories would explode inside your mind or set your heart on fire, as if the dagger would crumble, shatter, or simply cease to be - and of course none of that happened. But when your fingers wrapped around the handle you felt like crying. It had been important to you before yet now it was the most valued thing you possessed, the only thing you still had left that reminded you of those who had taken you in and raised you as their own. 

For a moment a lump in your throat prevented you from speaking. 

Then, as if your mind pushed the matter aside for later, you succeeded in blinking the forming moisture away and gave a short nod. “Yes, thank you.” 

She left with a last gentle smile of her own. 

 

In the momentary quiet you stared at the weapon in your hand, the familiar weight of it soothing. Could you use it, still? It was a solid thing and wouldn't break quickly, but what if it did? Could you risk it? Should you get another dagger, or would your mother still want you to use it? 

No, not now;  
you would think about this later too.

 

The men had been waiting for you. Though Dagny had stepped outside and Brant had gone with her all the others were there, inside the town hall, and their eyes were unreadable. They were waiting for you to speak up. Had they decided that you were in charge for now? Here? You had taken the lead before, of course, and had sent the whole party on this detour that delayed their journey home. You were sure that every single one of them would tell you they didn't mind it – and maybe that was true – but it all felt a bit... selfish. Yet maybe you were allowed to be. 

Still, you turned to Thor and gave him the final say in the decision you couldn't make on your own. He was, besides your friend, still the crown prince after all. 

“Halvor has offered to send a few of his men with us, for protection; but I'm sure he hopes they will prove themselves worthy of being allowed a place in Asgard's army – or your army, if you have one of your own. I told him I would discuss it since I didn't want him to cling to a promise I might not be able to keep.” You met the golden prince's eyes, blue like the cloudless sky on a midsummers day. “They have had a rough time and they seem like decent people, but I'm not sure if...” 

You didn't need to finish your sentence – everyone still clearly remembered what had happened with the Yllgardian escorts. 

He moved a hand over his beard. It had grown a bit longer, you noticed. “I do not know if our father will accept outlaws into training, he has always been a bit... _cautious_ with them. If he does not want them in his army then there is nothing that will ensure their safety. They could lose their lives.”

It was a risk they were no doubt willing to take. Could you allow them to come along only for them to find their end? Could you take the choice from them? Could you leave them in poverty like this, bound to take more contracts or possibly even turn to raiding? Your head was beginning to spin but you forced yourself to keep your thinking as clear as you could. 

“They need some sort of... They need reassurance that their lives could get better; but I think false hope will only hurt them more in the end. Do we need them for protection?”

Thor looked at his brother, who then spoke up with slow prudence. “My magic is far from replenished.” 

“How long will it take?” 

“Until it has fully restored? Six or seven weeks - if I don't use any of it. But, if I am careful, I will be able to protect us from most kinds of danger within one week.” 

The bearded prince then turned to you, and you answered with more confidence than you currently possessed. “It shouldn't take too long before mine has restored as well, and with the energy I already have I am sure I could help us out of some dangerous situations.”

He nodded in thought. “Then we don't need extra soldiers. It won't be too long before we arrive at the more densely populated part of the kingdom, and with the laws in place there will be few who dare to attack.” His eyes grew a bit sadder as he met yours. “There is not much we can offer them until we know Odin's thoughts on the matter.” 

You had expected as much. Still, these people needed something, _anything_ , to hold on to in search of a better life. They needed something else than contracts and stealing to provide for themselves. Yet maybe... maybe you weren't the one who could help them with that. Maybe you had begun to think too much of yourself after everything that happened. You had 'cured' Dagny, had helped the servants at the Yllgardian palace, and had revealed Ylva for who she was – and you had been praised for it. Had it caused you to see yourself as some kind of saviour? Did others see you like that? Their expectations of you had risen higher without a doubt. After you had been helping everyone out they must believe you would continue to do so – but what if you failed? What if their expectations were too high and you couldn't live up to them? What if -

A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you looked up to meet Thor's apologetic gaze. 

“If you think it is best to bring Halvor's men along then I will allow it.”

For a moment you were confused until you realised he hadn't been able to read your mind and so still thought it was the settlement you were worried about. And you were, of course; but you shook your head. 

“No, I don't think it will help them much.” 

Loki looked at his brother, and after a second of wordless conversation between the two Thor nodded once and gave your shoulder another gentle squeeze before letting go. 

“We can stay here a bit longer if you need the time to think. We are in no rush to get back to Asgard.”

“I think I just need some fresh air for now. Thank you for your patience with me, though; I'm... I feel like my mind has become slower.” 

“You're tired, my love.” Loki set a step closer to you and lifted his hand to gently cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek, before he placed a kiss to your forehead. “Perhaps a short rest is in place.” 

You couldn't say no to that. 

Rangvaldr left to ask Syri for a place where you and Loki could rest and the others stayed behind in the town hall to keep guard over Daene and discuss the upcoming route; your lover at your side as the two of you moved out of the building and into the sunlight. 

Dagny and Brant sat a little further down the path, the slight breeze carrying away their quiet conversation. All in all the world seemed peaceful. With the side of your head resting against the prince's shoulder you stared out into the valley and consciously let the tension from your muscles flow. 

“I wish I knew what to do.” 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his cheek atop your head. “You are not required to do anything, my sweetest. These people can fend for themselves and have survived quite nicely up here.”

“I'm more worried about their ways of doing business. Well, and their quality of living, but I understand how it may be hard to fight for a better life in the middle of nowhere. They don't even have the benefits of trade with other settlements or villages.” 

Your eyes widened a bit then, focusing on the ruins beside the lake.

“Unless... Unless I give them permission to settle down there, inside the valley.” 

He turned to look at you, confusion in his gaze. “You're willing to let them move there?” 

It made your heart sting, yet there was no use forbidding them to go down there if you were never to return here yourself. 

“Blacktree is- Blacktree was beautiful, and the people were happy. We had our crops, our trade, we had visitors and travelers stopping by... The lake has fish, too. It's a wonderful spot for a village and it would be a shame to simply give it up. Besides, I would much rather have Halvor and his people down there than any other group of raiders or bandits. Despite what they've done we know they aren't bad people at heart.” 

He didn't say anything for a moment, but his eyes didn't lose their worry. Then, after a few seconds more:

“Why are you so willing to sacrifice yourself for others?”

It was your turn to stay silent for a bit. 

This wasn't really a sacrifice, right? It was merely logical thinking. And yes, it did sting a bit, but you would get over that and it would no doubt hurt more to know some random group of outlaws had claimed the spot.  
Loki continued, softly. 

“Before you knew I was in love with you, you were willing to give up your feelings for me as well as our friendship because you thought I would be happier that way; married to Ylva - ” 

“That was different; I thought your happiness was at stake and, like you said, I was unaware you were in love with me.” 

“You were still prepared to sacrifice your own happiness. So if mine was at stake a second time, would you do it again? Say I lost every memory of you and was to be sent off to marry Ylva anyway. Would you hide your feelings? Pretend you never knew of me?” 

Your heart contracted and the idea alone of such a thing happening hurt too much to consider.

You averted your eyes and held a hand over your chest to try and ease the pain. “It's unfair; you know how much I'm willing to give up for your happiness. I love you too deeply to be able to see you unhappy and do nothing to stop it.” 

He gently took hold of your shoulders and by doing so made you look up at him again, but you didn't like the look in his eyes – and disliked what he said even more.

“I'm telling you not to. I do not want you to give up your own happiness for mine or anyone else's, do you understand? Your happiness is far more important, far more radiant than anyone out there deserves.” 

But you smiled, unable to help the stray tear, and brushed it away with a choked chuckle. “Look at us, trying to convince each other how our own happiness is less important. I'd much rather be happy together.” 

He smiled too and gently pulled you in for a loving embrace, holding you tight and closing his eyes to focus on the moment. “Then quit putting others above yourself, my love. Think thoroughly about this and how you feel on it and don't make any hasty decisions. We can stay here as long as we need.” 

“All right.”

And you held him close until Rangvaldr came, informing you that one of the cabins was momentarily uninhabited and had been prepared for your rest.


	80. LXXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of those who are still with me: thank you.

The cabin was certainly on the small side and the door Rangvaldr had opened revealed how the living area currently served as a makeshift storage room, but you felt no need to complain. Instead, you gave your friend an amused smile before he left and gently pulled Loki into the building.   
The wooden floor creaked and groaned beneath your slow footfalls as you looked around, fingers still intertwined with those of your prince, and dust swirled in the light that filtered through the dirty windows - yet with a little imagination you knew it would be warm and homely when freed from the stacks of crates and bags that hid the walls from view. The stone fireplace occupying the corner looked like it hadn't been used in a while but a pile of wood lay invitingly close beside it, the two wooden chairs unmistakably made by someone with skill, and though it was obvious no one had lived here for quite a while it wouldn't take much to make it welcoming again. 

“Admiring the mess?” 

You rolled your eyes at him and let go of his hand to make your way to the fireplace, where you gently swept a bit of the dust off the mantel. “Just wondering what it would have been like to live here.” 

He came to stand beside you and huffed. “Horrendous I imagine.” A soft 'oof' left his lungs when the back of your hand smacked against his chest yet his grin only grew. “Though any place you are, my sweetest, is a place worth living.” He sneaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back against him, his lips ghosting over your neck. “With you I could live anywhere, even in this tiny hovel of a building - or even the palace of Yllgard if I had to.” 

A soft laugh fell from your lips, eyes closed as you leaned into him. “As if you would ever even consider going back there.” 

“Only for you.” 

A hum through your smile. _Liar_. But you didn't say it. You simply tilted your head to the side and sighed contently at the kisses he began to place on the exposed skin, the fireplace forgotten.   
His arms wrapped themselves tighter around your waist and your sighs became of a different kind as his mouth found all the right places, his teeth not sinking deep enough to leave marks but making his intent clear and stirring up the butterflies inside your stomach. Whether you needed rest or not, it could wait.

In a single, fluid movement he let go, hooked an arm around your shoulders and under your knees, and lifted you with such ease it managed to surprise you every time – but his mouth was on yours before you could yelp, and your hands found his jawline to keep him there. Gods, how much you loved him. His needy kissing made your mind grow hazy and you barely noticed how he carried you to the bedroom until he lowered you onto the bed and followed suit, his lips not leaving yours and the weight of his body keeping you against the mattress as he stole the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you needed air the both of you were heaving, eyes dark with lust and desire as you locked gazes - yet, slowly, a bit of worry crept into his. An unspoken question. Were you okay? Were you willing to continue? Yes, was your silent answer as you pressed your lips to his again for a moment. Yes.   
It was all that was needed for excitement and lust to return to his gaze in tenfold.   
He sat back and pulled his shirt off while you mirrored the action with the same feverish hurry, lips meeting again once the fabric had been discarded and hands keeping each other close. It didn't take the both of you too long to be naked. His mouth moved from yours to your chin, down your throat, nipping gently to elicit soft whimpers. He took it slow; but you could tell his hunger had been building. A mewl slipped from your lips as his tongue slid over and around a nipple, his fingers taking care of the other, and your eyes fluttered shut at the tingling heat it sent down to between your legs. You needed him. 

“Loki...” 

“Patience, my love.” 

Your fingers found their way into his raven locks as he travelled further down, a trail of kisses, nips, and licks to your stomach and further yet, until his hands pressed your thighs further apart to allow him better access – and you gasped when his tongue met your core. You could feel his smug smirk at your responsiveness. 

“So wet for me already. Have you missed my face between your thighs? Missed my mouth on your heat?” The look he gave you was mischievous and playful, and you couldn't help but grin back at him. 

“Oh very much so, my dearest prince; we better make up for lost time.” 

And you had barely finished your sentence or he was doing exactly what you had suggested; mercilessly licking firm stripes over and between your folds and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, making your back arch and your mouth fall open. You had forgotten how mindbogglingly good he was at this.   
He lapped up your juices like his thirst had plagued him for weeks, his hands lifting your hips up to meet his ravenous mouth, and when one moved to slide two fingers inside of you all hopes of staying quiet were gone. He growled in arousal at the sounds. 

“Don't hold back; I don't care if everyone in this damned place hears how I make you scream for me. Let them know who you belong to.”

He curled his fingers to find that sweet spot inside of you and the pleasure it brought made a high-pitched moan burst from your lungs, the way he sucked and mouthed and kissed and growled making the coil inside your belly tighten rapidly until it snapped and you came against his lips, walls fluttering around his fingers. He groaned, drinking all you had to give and making sure he didn't miss a single drop. Oh how it left you quivering.   
He crawled back up your body and kissed you through his smile. 

“I say we put these fun activities back into our daily routine.” 

Your snickering joined his as he rested his forehead against yours.   
For a moment you just lay there together, panting, blissed out in the dust-filled light, until you felt his member twist against your mound and you realised he hadn't climaxed yet himself. Had you been taking your herbs? You would have to take a higher dose tomorrow, just to be sure his seed wouldn't take, because the thought of getting pregnant in stressful times like these frightened you. Good thing you knew how to prevent it. 

You raised your chin to give him another peck, meeting his half-lidded gaze with your own. “Take me, Loki. I want to feel you inside of me.” 

He groaned again in arousal, claiming your lips a little more heatedly before looking into your eyes again. “Do you realise how perfect you are, my lady? Your body, your mind, your soul... Every day I praise myself lucky that somehow I was the one you gave your heart to.”

You hummed through a fond smile, eyes sparkling with affection. “Less talking, more fucking.” 

He breathed out a laugh in response. “As you wish.” 

Rubbing his cock over your folds to prepare himself for easy entering you bit your lip and relaxed yourself as much as possible so as to make sure you could accommodate him, his size making you shiver in anticipation. 

“Ready, love?” 

You kissed him. “Yes.” 

He sank himself deep inside of you with a loud moan, his hands clenching into fists beside your head while you clung to him, held him tight as he tried to regain his composure with his face resting in the crook of your neck. His whispered praise set your skin on fire in all the right ways and the feeling of being so full, of fitting together so perfectly, it was enough to wipe any clear thoughts from your mind and to make it foggy and light. You had missed the intimacy of this, of his naked chest to yours, of his weight on top of you, of his kisses to your neck and his dark whispers in your ear. 

“You feel so good, Loki,” you whispered back to him, resting the side of your head to his as the both of you adjusted. “I love you so very much.” 

He slowly pulled out of you, air spilling from both your lungs, and he began to set a slow pace that made your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulder blades. His tip dragged over and hit against every spot that sent bolts of electricity up your spine. Every thrust, every roll of his hips guided you closer to that edge again and his sinful moans and grunts only served to speed up the process, but you didn't want it to end yet - you wanted to stay connected like this forever, holding him close as you both lost yourselves to pleasure and forgot about all the horrible things that had tormented you, him, and all the other people in your group of soldiers and friends. 

But he was beginning to throb inside of you and you were so close, so very close, that you knew it wouldn't last long anymore; and only a moment after his fingers slipped between your legs again you were gone. 

Your back locked in an arch against him as his name fell from your lips and his thrusts grew more frantic, shorter but more powerful, until he too reached his climax and filled you with his thick, hot essence. It was another feeling you had missed. 

Bodies still connected you lay in each others arms, panting, kissing, chuckling and kissing more, until the bliss was traded for weariness and the sheets began to feel more comfortable than ever. 

“Tell me you love me again,” he whispered into your hair. 

“I love you.” 

“Again.” 

“I love you, Loki, I love you so, so much and don't you dare to ever doubt it.” 

He nuzzled the top of your head, breathing in your scent as you breathed in his. 

“I love you too. I love you more than anything or anyone else, and I promise I will do everything to make you happy again.” 

You hummed against his chest, eyes closed and heartbeat slowing, and he held you tight as you drifted off to sleep. 

 

But he wasn't there when you woke up. 

 

You shot up in bed, panic instantly getting rid of the sleepy haze inside your mind, and you called out his name fearing he wouldn't answer. What if something had happened? What if they needed your help? What if-

He walked in, fully cleaned and clothed carrying a bucket of water with a hint of lingering fury in his eyes, but it melted away and morphed into worry when he saw your expression - yet before he could ask what was wrong the tension left your body and you sank down onto the bed again with a relieved sigh.

“Never scare me like that again.” 

He frowned slightly, setting down the bucket and moving over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“You were gone when I woke up.” 

It sounded silly now, even to you, and you lay an arm over your face to somehow try and hide it. Were you going to end up anxious of every little thing? Terrified for his life every time he was away? That would be no way to live. You needed to trust that he could take care of himself and keep himself from dying on you, like he had done for all his life up until the point you had needed to patch him up that day. It felt like that had happened years ago, and yet you remembered it as if it had been yesterday. 

Your arm was gently pulled down from your face to be replaced with a soft kiss to your lips. There was slight guilt in his gaze now. 

“I had hoped to be back before you would wake.” 

A slight frown pulled your eyebrows towards each other. “Back from what?” 

“I took Daene to the palace dungeons and locked him up in one of the cells. You won't need to face him again until you are ready.” An affectionate smile, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he held it. “And don't worry, even a dragon won't be able to escape that prison. Once we arrive at the palace you can take your time deciding his fate.” 

Oh you knew what his fate would be once you got the information you wanted from him, and it was not going to be pretty, but you merely nodded with gratefulness in your eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

 

It appeared you had only slept for a little while, the sun still a few hours away from starting its descent, and once you had cleaned yourself with the water Loki brought you and had gotten dressed you knew you didn't want to stay much longer than you already had. 

It was time to make up your mind and leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not one of my best chapters, but honestly I need to just move on and continue writing or this fic will never get the proper end it deserves.


End file.
